From Friends to Lovers
by Isha-libran
Summary: Gwendal von Voltaire and Anissina von Khrennikov move from friends to something more. Originally written for the KKM challenge on LJ, now complete.
1. A Beginning

**Title:** A Beginning  
**Rating:** PG for some swearing.  
**Theme/Prompt being used:** Love  
**Timeline:** Celi is still Maou and Stoffel has just started a war with the humans.

Originally written for the KKM challenge on LJ community ( http: /www (dot) community (dot) livejournal (dot) com/ kkm(underscore) challenge/ ), which gives a different prompt every two weeks for fanfic and fanart.

A/N: I'm still very new to the fandom, so I apologise if I inadvertently bend canon. Please be gentle with your concrit!

Winner of the Mod's choice for the round. Yay! :)

* * *

Gwendal had been in meetings all day—and well into the night—closeted with Gunter and the rest of the generals and advisors, trying to find some way of winning this damnable war that Stoffel had started.

The Mazoku Kingdom had a slight advantage for now, but their people were dying by the hundreds. Every dispatch from the front lines brought news of more and more wounded and killed.

And still Stoffel pressed for _more_, thinking somehow that the army wasn't doing enough—that _his_ army wasn't doing enough—swaying fools like Adalbert to his way of thinking.

He suppressed a low, angry growl as he stalked down the corridor, his arms clasped behind his back. What more did his uncle expect him to do? If it had been in _his_ power, he would never have started a war such as this—_he_ would have ensured a quick campaign with a decisive victory easily grasped—but no, _Stoffel_ was in charge.

His lip curled derisively as he thought again of his mother's brother, and as always, a sense of shamed chargin filled him at the thought that if only his mother had been a better ruler, none of this would have happened.

Love!

That was what was wrong with her. Always talking of love and thinking of it, on the hunt for it, as if it was the only thing of importance. While all around her, battle waged and her brother slowly drove their great and noble kingdom into the ground with his insanity.

It was then that Anissina appeared before him.

'Gwendal!' she called, looking unaccountably bright eyed, given the late hour. 'Just the man I was looking for! I need—'

She broke off as his scowl deepened, and while his expression did not change, he felt a moment of surprise. They had known each other for so long that his scowls, while they may have terrified anyone else, had ceased to have any effect on her.

'When was the last time you ate?' she asked him, a frown on her own face.

He blinked, the scowl lifting as he thought. 'I remember eating at the meeting...'

'That was nearly six hours ago!' she cried, giving him an exasperated look. 'Honestly, _where_ would you men be without us women?'

She caught hold of his arm, and started to tug him down the corridor with her.

'I know where the kitchens are, thank you,' he snapped at her, snatching his arm away. 'I do _live_ here, after all.'

She lifted a disdainful eyebrow at him as she preceded him down the stairs. 'Forgive me,' she said mock sweetly. 'I thought you might have forgotten, distracted as you are with constant thoughts of destruction and killing.'

'Anissina...' he ground out, fury rising like a dark tide, but then they were in front of the kitchens and she walked in before he could continue.

He chose to drop the matter for the moment, not wanting to cause a scene in front of the one lone servant still awake and tending to the fire.

The man looked surprised to see two nobles—one of them the Maou's eldest son, no less—in the kitchens at that hour, but his face was a study in astonishment when Anissina briskly ordered him to prepare a bowl of the stew that was currently simmering over the fire.

'But that's only for the nightwatchmen who will be along in a moment,' the man stammered. 'It's not fit for you, my lady—'

'Oh, it's not for me,' she assured the nervous man. 'It's for _him_,' she went on, indicating him with a less than polite jerk of her head.

The cook looked more distressed than ever. 'But—the Maou's son—I couldn't—'

'He missed having a proper dinner with the rest of us, so he can just make do with what's available,' she replied breezily, and after a fearful look at Gwendal, the man complied.

Soon he was sitting down to a steaming bowl of stew and a hunk of bread, with Anissina seated across from him at the scarred old table, even as the cook sat by the fire, watching them with wondering eyes.

Ordinarily he would never have compromised the dignity of his position as Maou's son and Commander of the Mazoku Army by sitting down at a servant's table, but now that the food was before him, his stomach gave a throb and he realised just how hungry he was.

He bolted down a bite of bread, and hissed when he raised the spoon with the still hot stew to his lips.

Anissina made a sound of impatience and pulled the bowl towards herself.

'Idiot,' she chided him. 'Can't you see it's hot? He just took it off the fire!'

She passed a hand over the bowl, and handed it back to him.

'There,' she said. 'That should be better.'

'Thank you,' he replied with poor grace, dragging his stew back to himself. Raising the spoon again—jarred a little by the unfamiliarity of it, he had used sporks all his life—he took a mouthful of the now pleasantly warm stew.

As he ate and she watched him in silence, he felt his earlier anger abate. To be honest, she had been abrasive and dismissive ever since he had known her, and it had never bothered him before. They had always had their disagreements—he disliked calling them _fights_, though that was what they were—but he had never felt this level of rage for her.

He realised now that his anger with Stoffel had nearly caused him to make her a target—when she had done nothing to him. She had merely been trying to take care of him, after all, albeit in her own way.

'You're welcome,' she said quietly, and he looked up to see her eyes soft and dark in the flickering flames that did a poor job of illuminating the kitchen.

'Gwendal,' she went on softly, 'is—is everything alright?'

He didn't miss the uncharacteristic hesitancy. He looked up again, and saw that her gaze was ungaurded and worried.

'Not here,' he said, abruptly pushing back his chair and abandoning his nearly finished stew. He picked up his bread and led her out of the kitchens, stopping briefly to thank the cook.

Taking large bites of his bread, he led her through the moonlight brightened corridors until they were standing just outside his rooms.

'What's wrong?' she asked him urgently.

'Where do I start?' he asked her sardonically, and she frowned at him.

'It's this damned _war_,' he spat in reply to her look, spinning on his heel and stalking down the corridor. 'Stoffel thinks the Army isn't doing enough, he keeps making more and more outrageous demands—'

'And Conrart is talking of joining the army to prove his loyalty—he's too _young_—and Mother—'

He broke off, his back to her, and she prompted him gently. 'And Celi?'

'All _she_ cares about is...'

He trailed off, and she said nothing while the silence drew out between them.

'All around us, people are dying,' he went on in a whisper. 'Men I have known for years—men I have trained myself—go out onto the front lines and do not return. And I do not know how many more letters of condolence I can write to their grieving families.'

'And _Stoffel_,' he snarled the name as he spun around in a renewal of his anger, 'is only looking for a sign of weakness to replace me with one of his own toadies.'

He had paced back to her by now, and she clutched at his arm, her face pale in the moonlight.

'Surely he wouldn't—after all, you are the Maou's son—'

'Maou?' he echoed with a harsh laugh. 'The kingdom may call Mother 'Maou' but it is Stoffel who runs the show. Stoffel who is the power behind the throne...and Stoffel who declares the wars.'

'There must be _something_ we can do,' she cried, her grip tightening in her emotion.

He noticed her use of the word 'we', and felt a surge of affection and gratitude for her. Even when they had been children together, she had always been ready to fight his battles with him, after the mandatory declarations that only _boys_ were dumb enough to get themselves so constantly into trouble.

The memories of a more innocent time eased his heart somewhat, and she blinked when he smiled gently down at her.

'Thank you, Anissina,' he said softly, drawing her hand away from his arm and to his lips.

She looked stunned, and her hand trembled against his lips as he looked down into her wide eyes.

'I didn't really do anything,' she protested breathlessly. 'All I did was listen.'

'It was enough,' he replied, gently letting her hand go.

He noticed that she clenched the hand into a fist as she let it fall to her side, and then she blinked twice before saying in her normal tones, 'Well, I _had_ wanted your help with something—it was why I was looking for you, actually—but I guess it can wait until tomorrow.'

'Good night,' she said brightly, bowing as was customary, and he felt a momentary sense of disappointment at the loss of her wide eyed expression and breathless voice.

He bowed his head in return, and with a last smile, she turned and walked away from him.

He sighed, and entering his rooms, he frowned as his eye fell on the large map of the Mazoku kingdom he had tacked onto one wall, immediately distracted by thoughts of tactics and strategies.

* * *

A/N: Thank you very much for reading, all concrit is very welcome. : )


	2. Rash Promises

**T****itle:** Rash Promises  
**Rating:** G  
**Theme/Prompt being used:** Secret Message—The first letter of each line or paragraph must spell out something.  
**Timeline:** Still warring with the humans.  
**Summary:** How exactly did Gwendal first end up helping Anissina with her inventions?

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, and I'm making no money off this, so please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Gwendal looked up at the hesitant knock on his doors. He frowned, wondering who would be bothering him at this hour. Most of the inhabitants of the castle were long asleep; he was one of the few still awake, wrestling as he was with more battle plans and strategies to ensure that they did not lose this war that Stoffel had started.

When the knock repeated itself, he rolled his eyes in irritation, and gave a vague grunt. Let them take it as they may. If they thought he was busy and went away, all the better for him, after all. He had no such luck, however, as the doors opened, and he looked up to see Anissina standing in the doorway.

'Everytime I try to talk to you, Gwendal, you seem busy,' she said in exasperation, striding forward to look down at the maps he was currently perusing. He said nothing in reply, and she went on. 'Well, don't you even want to know what I want?'

'No,' he replied, picking up his quill to correct a plan Gunter had drawn up. 'If you haven't noticed, Anissina, I'm a little busy right now, I can't drop everything just to accommodate you and your _whims_,' he gritted out.

Drawing out a chair nearby, she sat down, ignoring his anger. Her eyes had gone dark and serious, now, and she seemed oddly nervous. 'Gwendal,' she said hesistantly, 'I know the war isn't going as well as you would want it.' He looked up at that, and she went on hurriedly. 'I've been working on something that might help, but—'

'Anissina, _what_ are you talking about?' he growled, cutting her off. He didn't like being reminded of his losses, he had thought she knew better than that. She bit her lip anxiously in an uncharacteristic gesture, and he sighed, relenting. 'How do you think you can you help my army?'

'Let's go to my rooms, then I can show you what I mean, it'll be easier to explain,' she said, pushing her chair back and standing up. He followed as she led him down the corridors, carefully picking her way in the dim light of the torches that bracketed the walls. Soon she had entered her rooms, and he blinked at the strange smell that seemed to permeate everything. It seemed almost…metallic.

'Anissina, what do you want to show me?' She didn't reply, and he squinted as he walked deeper into the room. 'And can you light a _candle_, for the love of Shinou?' he grunted as he stumbled over a footstool he had missed in the darkness.

'No, not there,' she cried, ignoring him completely as she absentmindedly lit a candle and held it in her hand. She caught him by the arm and pulled him to one corner of the room, raising her hand so that the candle shone down on a small vat. The strange metallic smell intensified, and he realised he was looking at the source. '_Here_.'

'Dammit, I can see it, but what _is_ it?' She took a deep breath at his question and started to explain disjointedly.

'Actually, it's the result of this idea I had—an alloy—if it works—if we coat our swords and shields with it, it should make them ten times stronger.' He was intrigued now, and he turned to look at the substance again.

Nervously, Anissina went on, breaking the silence, 'There's just one problem, though. My maryoku can boil this, but I can't do it and dip the sword at the same time. So if you could heat it up, then I could coat this test sword,'—she held up a sword she had picked up from the floor—'and then we could see if it works.'

'Is that all?' A relieved smile broke out over her face at his words, and he smiled back at her. He waved her thanks aside as he rolled up his sleeves and held his arms out in front of him. 'Ready?'

She nodded, holding the sword up as he began to call on his maryoku. He watched as she quickly dipped the sword upto its hilt in the now bubbling mixture, drawing it out again and shaking the excess mixture off. It seemed normal enough, he mused as he watched the sword. A moment later, she tapped him on the shoulder, and he slowly let his energy fade, turning to see her beaming up at him proudly.

'Shall we try it out?' she asked him, waving the sword about excitedly. It hissed a faint blue as it moved through the air, and he took it quickly from her inexpert hands. He swung it around a few times, noting the subtle difference in the way it moved. 'Now all we have to do is test it out to see if it works,' she beamed at him, and he moved quickly to help her, excitement coursing through him at the idea that she might have hit on something _useful_ to his army.

'Is there anything else you've been working on?' he asked her, and she stopped what she was doing to look at him quizzically. 'Any more inventions? Because if you need any more help—or a test subject, or something—I'm _always_ willing.' She blinked at him in surprise, and he went on, 'And if I'm not available for some reason, I'm sure Gunter would be equally willing to help.'

'Now I _really_ can't believe it,' she said, shaking her head. 'I was so sure you wouldn't even want to _see_ this invention of mine, but you say you actually want me to continue.' She paused, and looked at him. 'You really mean it about helping me whenever I need it?'

'Anissina, I give you my word,' Gwendal replied, looking at her seriously, willing her to believe him. 'Besides, have you ever known me to break a promise?'

* * *

A/N: Hmm. I find I am not entirely happy with this, the formatting is all screwy because of the challenge.

Anyway, thanks for reading, all comments and concrit are welcome. :)


	3. Bad News

**Title:** Bad News  
**Word Count:** 500  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme/Prompt being used:** Word limit  
**Timeline:** The war with the humans is still going strong.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

It is Gunter who brings the news to him.

Gwendal passes a hand over his brow distractedly. Julia…_dead_….

_Conrart_, he thinks sadly. His brother would return to news such as this—if he even returned at all. And his cousin—only a life of exile, now.

'Shall I tell Lady Anissina?'

He looks up at Gunter's sombre face, and feels his heavy heart sink further. Anissina! He brings a fist down onto the arm of his chair. He had forgotten about her. She would not take the news of this death well.

'No,' he says, not meeting the other man's gaze. 'I'll do it myself.'

He stands and makes his way to the rooms she uses when she is at the castle, steps slow and heavy. He would give anything not to have to do this, but he had learned of duty and responsibility long ago, and it is a lesson not easily forgotten.

He hesitates a moment before steeling himself and raising his hand to knock on her door.

She opens the door herself instead of calling to him to come in, which means she isn't working on an invention right now.

'Gwendal!' she beams as he enters without waiting for her permission—they have known each other too well and too long for that, he thinks—and takes a seat. Her room is the exact antithesis of the popular conception of an inventor's personal space, everything is neat and tidy and in its place.

'How come you've dropped by for a visit?' she asks as she sweeps some quills off the desk. 'You're usually too busy in _meetings_,' she chides him gently, smiling.

'Anissina…' he trails off, not knowing how to say it, how did you tell someone a loved one was gone, lost to them forever?

And Julia was almost a _sister_ to her, strained as her relationship was with her own brother, he remembers suddenly.

The smile leaches from her face, eyes going dark and fearful as she suddenly leans against her desk for support.

'Who is it?' she whispers. 'Just tell me.'

'It's Julia.'

She sways where she stands, and it is only a quick reflex on his part that stops her from meeting the floor.

'How?' she whispers against his chest.

'She pushed herself too hard,' he says, and she nods.

'Yes,' she gasps, and he feels her trembling. 'Yes, that _would_ be how she would go, poor brave Julia…'

A pause, and then:

'Was—was she—'

'Gisela was with her to the end. She wasn't alone.'

Anissina nods jerkily against him. She is trembling in earnest now. He moves to the chair, taking her with him. She says nothing, and neither does he. She is dry eyed and silent, and he can only hold her, letting the wordless consolation of his embrace comfort her as much as it can.

He forgoes his other duties for the night in favour of this more important one as he sits with her in her grief.

* * *

A/N: So I'm making up my own backstory for these characters, given that we don't know much about them. If anyone knows differently and would like me to stop bending canon, please let me know.

Thank you for reading, all concrit is very welcome. :)

And big thanks to LadySakuraForest and AM for reviewing, unfortunately it seems there are only THREE people on this site who like Gwendal/Anissina. :P

Oh, well. -shrugs-


	4. On the Mend

**Title:** On the Mend  
**Rating:** PG  
**Theme/Prompt being used:** Yuuri x anyone.  
**Timeline:** The war with the humans is finally over.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, and I'm making no money off this, so please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

She stopped when she heard his voice.

For a moment, she had forgotten that he had returned, it was still something of a shock to turn a corner and run into him. Seeing _him_ always made her think of Julia—how fond she had been of him!—and then the pain was always visceral and inescapable and so very _immediate_.

She was not yet strong enough to tolerate such reminders of her loss on a daily basis.

Anissina hesitated, locked in indecision as she stared down the corridor where she could hear the conversation in progress. How long would she continue to hide from her grief? It had to be faced sooner or later, but then there was also the instinctive need to protect oneself from further pain…

She closed her eyes a moment, standing very still as she took a deep breath. Snapping them open again, she firmed her jaw as she strode down the corridor to Conrart—not running, but walking as normally as possible—because she would _not_ betray her turmoil to anyone, even if von Voltaire castle were to collapse around her very ears.

She turned the corner, and the voices became louder. She frowned in bewilderment when she saw Gwendal standing just outside the library, a pensive frown on his own face. She stopped just behind him and peered into the room.

Conrart was seated in an armchair in one corner of the library, elbows on his knees as he leaned forward in his excitement. Gunter was sitting opposite him and listening in polite curiosity, while Wolfram stood at the windows, turning back occasionally to look at his half brother when he thought the other didn't notice.

'You won't believe it, Gunter, but he had already begun to recognise my voice by the time I left Earth,' Conrart was saying, a reminiscent smile on his face.

She blinked at the _life_ in his voice. When he had left their kingdom, the only thing Conrart had cared about had been his obligation to the task Julia had asked of him. He had been angry and hurt and full of a bitter rage, and to see him _smiling_ now...

She came back to the conversation in time to hear him speak again.

'It's amazing how fast they grow.'

'How old is Yuuri now?' Gunter asked, leaning forward to pick up his cup of tea and take a sip.

_Yuuri_. Julia's favourite time of year.

She wondered suddenly, with a fierce curiosity, whether there would be anything else of Julia in the new Maou. Would she look into his eyes and see her lost friend looking back at her?

Was that what Conrart had seen?

'He's nearly a year old, now. But then he _is_ half human—' he shot a quick glance at the motionless figure at the window—'so he'll age much faster than a Mazoku. I guess we can call him here in about twenty years or so, at the most.'

'Twenty years!' Gunter's eyebrows nearly met his hairline. 'That hardly gives us any time to make preparations, and everyone's still recovering from the war…'

The words were unspoken, but his frown said the rest: _and what if we finally get everything back into order, just in time for this half human Maou to come and declare_ another _war?_

'I'm sure everything will be fine,' Conrart said soothingly, replying to Gunter's worried grimace, rather than his words. 'Yuuri is different. I don't think we'll have anything to worry about.'

Gwendal gave a convulsive movement in front of her, and Anissina turned to him in alarm. She touched his elbow, and he blinked as he turned to her, almost as if he had forgotten she had been standing next to him. She raised an eyebrow at him, and he motioned to her not to reveal their presence as he caught her by the arm to silently lead her away from the library and its occupants.

He led her to his office, where he dropped her arm to fidget with the quill on his desk as he avoided looking at her. She supressed a sigh as she realised that he would try to ignore the problem now, whatever it was.

'Gwendal,' she bit out. 'Just tell me what's wrong. I don't quite have the patience right now to pry the words out of your mouth.'

He turned stormy eyes to her. 'Anissina,' he snarled, 'mind your own business.'

She propped her hands on her hips and glared at him. 'I will not.'

'Go and bother someone else, you little—'

'There _is_ no one else!'

They stared at each other for a moment, both of them shocked by the unexpected pain in her voice.

'Julia is gone.' The words cut through her, and she took a shaky breath before saying quietly, 'You're all that's left to me now, Gwendal.'

His face tightened as he turned away from her, visibly struck by her words. Silence reigned for a few minutes as she dropped into a chair and passed a hand over her brow, wondering vaguely what had been her plans for the day before she had run into Gwendal. Right now she couldn't remember, and the thought worried her more than she cared to admit.

'It's Conrart.'

She looked up at the low voice. He still stood facing the bookshelf, but the stubborn set to his shoulders was gone now.

She said nothing, waiting for him to go on.

'You remember what he was like when he left, don't you?' Gwendal swung around to face her, and she nodded at him. Yes, she remembered.

Where _she_ had fallen into a kind of numbness following the shock of Julia's death, Conrart had had not only her death to contend with, but the loss of nearly all the men under his command—friends and comrades both. Yozak and his family were all that had been left to him, and by the end of the war, he had spiralled into a dark indifference, caring nothing for whether he even lived or died.

'Perhaps it might have been different if his father had been alive, but he wasn't,' Gwendal went on, beginning to pace down the length of his office. 'There was only _us_.'

'Mother tried to get him to talk about it, but he never did. I tried to help, too, but…'

He trailed off helplessly, his back to her as he whispered, 'He told me, once, when he first returned, that for a long time, he did not wish to come back to us.'

She gasped, hand going to her mouth in shock. That Conrart would think of never returning, of leaving behind his family and the only life he had ever known…

'Now this _child_ comes along—and suddenly he's smiling and laughing again!' Gwendal spun around at that, meeting her eyes with his own anguished ones. 'I tried everything I could,' he confessed, voice tortured. '_Everything_.'

But none of it had been enough, she thought, heart aching. And now it was eating him up that _he_ had failed his brother, but a child he had never even seen had done what he couldn't, and brought Conrart back to himself.

'Gwendal,' she started, and then stopped, unsure of what to say. She had never really understood siblings, having never had the best of relationships with her own brother. She knew that it was likely that she couldn't even begin to understand the depths of such a bond; what it meant to a sibling to fail to look after one of their own. And then, Gwendal had always felt responsible for his half brothers, being so much older than them.

She stood and moved to him, forcing him to meet her gaze. 'You have to let it go, Gwendal.'

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her, but he said nothing. Taking that as permission, she continued. 'Better that he accepted healing from elsewhere, than things continuing as they had been,' she said, trying to make him see reason.

'I know that,' he snapped back at her, crossing his arms. 'It's just…'

He trailed off, his eyes clouding with regret as he sighed, and she nodded. 'I know,' she said, laying a hand on his arm.

'Yes, you _do_, don't you?' A small smile quirked his lips as he looked down at her. 'Anissina, sometimes I think you know me too well.'

She gave a weak laugh as he uncrossed his arms and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips in gratitude. He had done this once before, she remembered, and even then it had made her heart pound strangely. His smile was so _warm_ as he looked down at her, the affection in gaze doubly precious for all that it was so rarely visible…

Her hand twitched in his grasp, and she snatched it away quickly, leaving him blinking at her in surprise. She could feel a flush rising up her cheeks despite her best efforts, and his gaze lingered on her face for a long moment before he turned away, much to her relief.

She took a deep breath, ignoring the odd pounding of her heart to focus on the issue at hand.

'I think I'll be joining Conrart and Gunter in the library now,' she said slowly and deliberately, and he turned to her again. She waited for a moment, seeing his struggle reflected in his face.

Then, finally:

'I'll come with you.'

She smiled at him as he turned to accompany her. It would not be easy, but they would help each other through it.

Perhaps they were both on the way to mending, after all.

* * *

A/N: Thank you very much for reading, all comments and concrit are very welcome. )


	5. Awakenings

**Title:** Awakenings  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Prompts being used:** 'Yuri—girl/girl', and 'telling a story through a report'.  
**Timeline:** It's been a few years since the war with the humans.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Gwendal walked briskly down the corridor, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone still awake and about in the castle. While it was no crime for him to be on his way to the kitchens at this late hour, he preferred that it remain unknown that he had skipped his dinner once again.

He grimaced as he contemplated the vast amounts of paperwork that still lay in wait for him in his office. While the war had finally convinced his mother to no longer consider Stoffel fit to rule in her stead, the former regent tenaciously held onto power in his unofficial capacity as the Maou's brother, and tried hard to turn the other aristocrats against him. Even now there were many negotiations in store before he himself could hope to assume the position of regent.

He softened his tread as he passed Anissina's room. He couldn't risk waking her. He didn't know which was worse, that she'd laugh at him if she found him, or that she'd drag him down to the kitchens as if he were a recalcitrant child. He frowned when he saw that the door was ajar, and then remembered that she was visiting her brother in her own province.

Sometimes he wondered whether Densham von Khrenikoff wasn't directly reponsible for his sister being the way she was. The man treated women as if they didn't have a brain in their heads, and while he was not the only one to feel that way—which was the reason why Stoffel had found it so easy to rule the country, despite his _sister_ offically being Maou, after all—Gwendal could see why someone like Anissina would rebel against her only relative.

He had been surprised when she had told him she'd be visiting Densham, but she had said that maybe her brother would see now that _men_—who could start a war—were more stupid than women.

He did not think things would work out as she hoped. After all, there was a reason why she preferred to stay with _him_ instead of her own brother.

A soft feminine giggle made him pause, and he saw that he had stopped outside the servants' quarters. Next door to the left would be the kitchens, then. He had just taken another step when his ear caught a name.

'Lord Weller!'

He frowned. Surely _Conrart_ wasn't hanging about the servants' quarters? Stealthily, he stepped closer to the door standing slightly open. Now he could make out the voices of those three maids his mother insisted on employing about the palace, the ones who irritated him with their incessant giggling.

'Yes, he certainly is handsome,' one of them gushed, and he raised an eyebrow at the slightly tipsy laughter that followed. Were the maids _drunk_? He smirked delightedly as the implications of that fact struck him. His mother couldn't stop him from firing them now, not if the girls were getting drunk on duty. He grinned as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, hunger forgotten in the light of this amusing new discovery. Best that he collect as much evidence as possible.

'Oh, oh, and don't forget Lord von Christ,' a third voice said, and he rolled his eyes at the squeals of agreement that followed. The country had just come out of a _war_, and the only thing these frivolous little girls could think of were all the good looking people they were currently serving.

'Don't forget Maou Celi,' the first one giggled, and he grimaced as he shook his head. He should've known her name would turn up, it seemed his mother's beauty could never be—

'And Lady Anissina!'

His mouth fell open before clamping itself firmly shut again. _Anissina_?

Apparently the girl's companions shared his disbelief. 'Lady Anissina?' they repeated dubiously.

'Of course,'—Doria? Langaria? Something like that—continued, 'she's got that _beautiful_ red hair, and those sapphire blue eyes…and, of course, that _body_! She keeps it hidden under high necks and those long sleeved things she insists on wearing, but let me tell you, if she were ever to dress up, she'd give the Maou a run for her money!'

Gwendal blinked as he slumped against the wall, stunned out of all amusement. And still the woman inside went on.

'I saw her getting into the baths once, when she didn't know I was there…' The girl's voice had turned husky now, and he swallowed through a suddenly thick throat. 'High, firm breasts…long, long legs…and her skin almost seemed to _glow_…'

He blinked again at the image the girl's words had conjured up, and shook his head as he pushed away from the wall with a growl. All fell silent inside the room at the noise, and he felt a savage pleasure as he heard a small, frightened gasp when he turned briskly away and started marching down the hall to the kitchens.

How dare—those girls had _no_ right—

He let out a frustrated snarl as he pushed open the door to the kitchens. The cook inside jumped at the noise, and his scowl as he demanded some food—_any_ food—only deepened as he thought again of the maids. Insolent creatures!

A few moments later he was sitting down to a hasty meal, even as the cook watched him with nervous eyes from across the room. He raised a forkful of spiced meat to his lips, and remembered how he and Anissina had been in the kitchens once before in similar circumstances. But that memory was hazy now, and suddenly all he could think of was an image of her as the maid had described her, with her hair unbound and swirling all around her as she stood waist deep in the water of the baths…

He swore as he thrust the plate away roughly, and the cook jumped. 'Your excellency?' he quavered, and Gwendal shook his head as he pushed away from the table.

'The food is fine, but I seem to have lost my appetite suddenly.'

The man bobbed a nervous bow, and he nodded absently as he turned and stalked back to his rooms. He had to get a hold of himself. He had heard something he was never meant to hear, and it was best he put it out of his head as soon as possible.

The _thoughts_ he'd had of Anissina earlier were only a minor abberation, brought on by too much work, and the words of that damned maid.

Closing his eyes as he lay in bed later that night, he decided that he would have to see if he could have all three of them fired the next day.

--

His mother would not hear of it.

Gwendal gnashed his teeth as she just ignored everything he said with an airy smile. 'Oh, darling,' she cried, and he resisted the urge to curse, 'everyone needs to relax once in a while, and you can't blame them for having a little fun—in the middle of the night, when no one would require their services anyway.'

'That's not the point, mother—'

'The girls stay!' she cried, and he knew he had lost. 'Now forget about _them_, and think of your dear mother for a moment,' she pouted. 'You didn't say a _thing_ about my new hairdo!'

When he finally escaped fifteen minutes later, it was to hear the news that Anissina had returned. He frowned at the messenger's back as the man walked away from him; she had said she would stay for three weeks, but she had returned in only two. He made his way to her rooms, and sure enough, she was there, waiting for him.

The sun light up her hair as she sat looking out of the window seat she had had installed in her room, and he had to catch his breath at the sight of her. He swallowed hard as the maid's words from the previous night rang in his ears, and he found himself wishing suddenly that she had extended her trip.

'Back so soon?'

His harsh words had no affect on her, she simply launched into a diatribe against her 'idiotic, senseless _boor_ of a brother'—clearly, she had just been waiting for a sympathetic ear—and he relaxed as they fell back into their old, familiar rhythm.

He ignored the sudden awareness of her that skittered along his nerves with her every movement, especially when he saw that she was in another one of her long sleeved, high necked dresses that now tantalised him with the idea of what lay underneath.

--

It was good to be back.

Sometimes she wondered how she and her brother could _possibly_ be related. The things he said—the things he _did_—it was enough to drive her insane, sometimes.

Shaking her head to be rid of the memory, Anissina continued on her way down the corridors toward the throne room. Well, if there was nothing she could do to influence how her own province was run, then she would tackle the bigger picture. There were things the Maou needed to hear, and it was best that it be—

'Lady Anissina!'

She turned at the voice, raising an eyebrow as she wondered what Gunter wanted. He did not usually seek out her company; the two of them were polite acquaintances, nothing more.

'Yes, Lord von Christ?'

'There's something I wished to ask you…'

The man trailed off, and she felt her usual irritation with him return. The man was _flighty_, there really was no other word for it. Gwendal insisted Gunter was a great warrior, and that the ditzy nature he affected was only an act, but it didn't stop her from gritting her teeth at the man and his mannerisms.

'Yes?' she asked, resisting the urge to tap her foot impatiently, but only just.

'It's a little delicate,' he said, and she felt some of her impatience be replaced by curiosity. 'Please,' he said, clutching her arm, 'come in here.'

She blinked as he pulled open the door opposite them, and led her inside. Gunter snapped his fingers and a candelabrum on the table lit itself, now making it easy to see in the gloom of the room.

'What is it?' she asked, more gently this time.

'It's…Gisela,' he said, shoulders slumping as he said the words. 'Please, she's your friend, and she needs someone to talk to. Losing Lady Wincott has been hard on her.'

'I realise there are some things that cannot be shared with men—Lady Wincott fulfilled that role for her earlier, but now… She won't talk to _me_, and I thought that maybe…'

She crossed her arms at the words, still feeling a slight pang of pain at the thought of her fallen friend. She and Gisela had spoken often in the days following Julia's death, and she had assumed the girl had come to terms with losing her mentor. It seemed she was wrong.

'Don't worry, Gunter,' she said softly, laying a hand on his arm. 'I'll talk to her.'

'Thank you,' he said, giving her a tired smile.

She smiled back at him as she turned and opened the door, only to come face to face with a maid. The girl blinked a little, and Anissina raised an eyebrow at the sudden look of guilt that crossed her face. Clearly the maid had been eavesdropping on their conversation. Well, she thought, shrugging, the poor girls had to have their entertainment _somehow_. Shinou knew she'd have gone batty if _she'd_ had to serve a bunch of idiotic _men_ every hour of every day!

She smiled at the maid, and the girl blushed before giggling and curtsying as Gunter preceded her out of the door. Anissina hid a sudden grin at the thought of Gwendal's reaction to the giggling. She'd have to ask him about it sometime; it'd make for amusing conversation to get him ranting about the 'frivolous maids'.

'Really, Lady Anissna,' Gunter said, drawing her attention back to him, 'I cannot thank you enough for what you are doing for me.'

'It's nothing,' she said, waving an arm dismissively. 'Where is Gisela now?'

'She's been in the stables since morning, there was a mare colting last night, she must still be with the animal.'

She nodded as she looked out of the window. It was only late afternoon, better that she let the girl rest. She could talk to her later. In the meantime, she still had to meet the Maou.

--

Accordingly, it was late evening when she knocked on Gisela's doors. The girl had been surprised but happy to see her, and she had felt a twinge of regret at the thought that it had taken a _man_ to see that the poor child had been lonely.

'This is a pleasant surprise, Lady Anissina,' Gisela smiled as she sat down at the little table in one corner of the room. 'Please, have a seat.'

'Thanks,' she replied as she sat across from her, placing on the table the bottle of wine she'd brought along. 'Surely you haven't forgotten, have you?' she said, when Gisela raised her eyebrow.

The girl beamed happily before getting up to fetch wine glasses, and soon they were both sitting at the table and sipping at the wine. They had done this often, she and Julia—and occasionally, Gisela—sitting up until late at night, getting steadily drunker on the wine as they shared stories and palace gossip. She felt a pang when she glanced at the empty seat to her right, but ignored it to swirl around the wine in her glass.

'It's been a while.'

'Yes,' she said, wincing a little as she looked up to meet Gisela's gaze. 'I'm sorry I haven't come to see you sooner, I've been a little busy.'

'Yes, I know,' Gisela replied. 'You went to visit your brother. How is he?'

'Idiotic,' she snapped instantly, and laughed at the dumbstruck look on the girl's face. 'I'm sorry, perhaps I should have told you that I do not get along very well with my brother.'

Gisela laughed before her smile turned wistful. 'I used to hope for a sibling, but then I realised it was unlikely that Father would marry, or that he'd adopt again.'

'He's worried about you,' she said, and Gisela snorted.

'He thinks I'm still depressed about the war and—all that happened,' her voice wavered a moment before becoming strong again, 'but he doesn't see that lately all I've been worrying about is _him_!'

Anissina chuckled as she took a sip. 'How like a man.'

Gisela laughed reluctantly, shaking her head as she refilled their glasses. 'The war was hard on all of us. I know he has problems with it—he has nightmares—but he won't let me help him. I'm sure I could treat them, but he thinks I'll crack under the strain, or some such nonsense. Honestly, he treats me like such a _child_, sometimes.'

Anissina hid a laugh at the pout on the girl's face. Gisela would be fine, she was sure of it. And while she may not be a child, she was still young. Perhaps it was time for a change of topic, time for something less weighty, and more _fun_.

'So,' she asked, setting down her wine glass and clapping her hands together. 'What's new in the palace since I've been gone?'

The girl's eyes lit up, and soon she was talking away, telling her all the latest gossip.

'—and I heard that Lord von Voltaire wanted to have them fired, but the Maou wouldn't hear of it.'

Anissina laughed as she clutched her aching sides. 'You're not serious? Gwendal really tried to have them fired?' At Gisela's delighted nod and answering chuckle, she sighed wistfully. 'Oh, to have been a fly on the wall during _that_ conversation!'

She giggled again, imagining the fierce scowl Gwendal must have tried on his mother—and the Maou wouldn't even have cared one iota. 'Do you have any idea why?'

Gisela shook her head, eyes dancing. 'I'm not sure, but I heard it's because one of the maids had a crush on him and he found out about it.'

'A crush on Gwendal?'

Gisela nodded as she sipped from her glass, missing Anissina's shocked look. 'I know—who can blame her? Too bad he found out about it.'

'But…_Gwendal_?' she repeated, shaking her head.

'Why is that so hard to believe?' Gisela asked her, looking up at last and seeing her incredulous expression. 'He's a _very_ good looking man, I'm sure you've noticed.' She blushed as she continued. 'I worked on him once during my internship—he got a wound to his ribs, so we had to take off his shirt…' she trailed off with a dreamy sigh, and Anissina raised her eyebrows.

'And we had to undo his hair, as well—it was _so_ soft to the touch, you wouldn't believe it!'

Gisela noticed her shocked expression, and laughed. 'Ah, well, looks like my secret's out. I used to have the most enormous crush on him when I was younger. I used to tag along behind him whenever I could, it used to make Wolfram _so_ jealous,' she said, giggling at the memory.

'Yeah, what's the story with you and Little Lord Brat?' Anissina asked, changing the subject, but the words still rung in her ears, even as Gisela blushed and began to sputter.

_He's a _very_ good looking man, I'm sure you've noticed…_

Well, of course she had noticed, she'd always known that Gwendal was attractive, she'd seen too many socialites fawning over him at too many royal balls to believe otherwise. But _knowing_ something was different from _realising_ it for oneself.

_He had to take off his shirt…_

She frowned when she caught herself wondering what Gwendal looked like without his shirt.

She shook her head when Gisela made to fill her glass again, obviously the wine was clouding her mind and affecting her ability to think clearly. There was no other reason why a few careless words would be affecting her so. Best she sleep it off as soon as possible, she thought, standing up as she suggested to Gisela that perhaps it was time she was on her way.

It was late when she finally made it back to her rooms, and her dreams that night were full of burning blue eyes and unbound grey hair.

--

CONFIDENTIAL.

The Maou's Eyes Only.  
_  
Report: 23rd March-30th March_

My lady, no doubt you remember that Doria's report of last week stated that Lady Anissina and Lord von Christ were having an affair, based on the fact that they had locked themselves together into the library next to the throne room one afternoon.

However, the latest developments suggest something quite different, your majesty.

This whole week, I've been observing Lady Anissina and your majesty's son, Lord von Voltaire. They've been staring at each other whenever each of them thinks the other isn't looking.

Of course, they forget that the maids see everything.

I'm sure there's something going on between the two of them, majesty. Or if there isn't, there soon will be.

Also, Lady Gisela von Christ visited Lord Biedefeld in his chambers late last night. She went back to her own chambers after an hour, though.

—Sangria

* * *

A/N: Many thanks to **Jenri92** for your review. I'm looking forward to your thoughts on the other chapters! :)

And everyone else, thanks for reading, all comments and concrit are very welcome. : )

ETA: Since we now know that Anissina's brother's name is Densham, I've edited the chapter to reflect this. Although I will mourn the loss of Nikolai von Knrennikov, because that has such a nice ring to it. :P


	6. Eponymous

**Title:** Eponymous  
**Rating:** PG for some swear words  
**Prompt being used:** Quote—"The day started with bad omen birds and went downhill from there."  
**Timeline:** It's been a few years since the war with the humans.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

The day started with bad omen birds and went downhill from there.

Of course, _normally_ he was not one to believe in superstition and bad luck, but there really was nothing else it could be.

Gwendal had woken up to the sound of sparrows outside his window, their twittering had caused him to wince at the thought of the hysterics that would now follow from the maids; with much wailing about the 'endless bad luck that was sure to rain down upon them all, Shinou help us', and he had shaken his head at the thought as he had pulled on his shirt. He really could not understand why his mother insisted on having them around the castle, they were singularly useless, but she had been surprisingly vehement in her defense of them.

The maids had been avoiding him of late, ever since he had tried to have them fired two weeks ago. He did not know if it was because they knew of his displeasure, or because his mother had orchestrated it so that they were not often in his presence, but he was grateful nonetheless. It was bad enough that he had begun looking at Anissina _differently_, he did not need the constant reminder of it that the presence of the maids would bring.

He had shrugged his uniform coat on, buttoning it up quickly at the knock on his door.

'Enter.'

Thankfully enough, it hadn't been one of _those_ maids, though he had seen a flash of their distinctive uniforms when the door had opened. It had been Hilde, one of the older maids who had been serving at Covenant Castle for longer than he could remember. She had smiled at him in greeting as she had stepped toward him with his morning tea, and he had nodded back at her. He had relaxed a little as he had taken a brush to his hair, atleast now there would be no hysterics and no squealing. Hilde knew better than that.

This illusion had been shattered when she had dropped the tray she held. There had been a startled, horrified gasp as she had heard the twittering—'Sparrows!'—and it was only a quick reflex on his part that had him saving the tray, although the cup of tea it had held had crashed to the floor, spilling its contents on him in the process.

He had cursed under his breath, shooting the normally _sane_ woman a furious look.

'Oh, I _knew_ something like this would happen, your Excellency,' she had cried, as she had wrung her hands in distress. 'Nothing good ever comes from sparrows, that's what my grandmother always said.'

Biting back the words that had sprung to his lips about the woman's damned grandmother, he had thrust the tray at her. 'There is nothing unlucky about sparrows, Hilde,' he had said, scowling at her as he furiously stripped off his now sopping uniform coat, 'superstitious people like _you_ are simply too scared to think straight at the sound of them, causing unnecessary accidents in your fear.'

'I'm so sorry, your Excellency,' the woman had said, looking wretched, and he had waved her away irritably. 'Don't bother with more tea. Send some to my office when you have time.'

In the end, he had ended up in only the shirt he had worn under his coat, having left his uniform coat for the cleaning women. The only ones he had had left had been his ceremonial coat, and the one he wore when he had to ride to war; neither of which he wished to wear on a normal day at the Castle.

Having cast a wry glance at himself in the mirror, he had exited the room, leaving behind the still chirping sparrows. He had gotten a few strange looks on his way, being seen in such unusual garb, so it was with a sigh of relief that he had escaped to the quiet of his office, where he could be safe from the superstitions of the ignorant few.

He had enjoyed the peace and quiet for only half an hour before the there was a knock on his door.

It was Hilde again, with an apologetic expression and a cup of tea. And a message, as it turned out.

'The Maou wishes to see you in her private gardens, your Excellency,' she said, proferring the tea hesitantly. He took it from her with a frown, setting it on his table as he looked up at her. 'Immediately?'

She nodded, and he dismissed her as he asked her to tell his mother he would be along shortly. He turned to the proposal in front of him again. Trade had become a problem following the war, most of their allies had suffered as they had, and their human trading partners were in no condition to supply anything to them as well. Things needed to get back to normal, but it seemed unlikely it would happen soon, or without much effort. He frowned again as he took a sip of his tea and stared down at the letters in Gunter's neat handwriting that spelt out the harsh truth of their kingdom.

Back to normal, he mused. Well, his mother calling him away from his work on one of her whims was, unfortunately, _normal_.

He got up as he finished his tea, setting all the documents and papers that littered his desk into some order before striding out of the room and to the garden. He soon saw his mother sitting at a small tea table she'd had placed out among the flowers, Conrart and Wolfram were there as well.

As he drew near, she turned to him with a smile, and suddenly, he was filled with a great foreboding. Especially now that he was close enough to see the mischievous look in Wolfram's eyes.

'Mother?'

'Oh, do sit down, Gwendal,' she cried, and he gave a long suffering sigh and did as he was told. Conrart was having a cup of tea, while Wolfram looked out at the flowers as if recalling a particularly funny joke. He frowned again. Nothing good came of it when his youngest brother smiled that way, he had the memories of countless pranks to prove it.

'Oh, I'm so glad you changed your look, dear, I _told_ you green wasn't your colour,' his mother cried, and he turned to her again as she clasped her hands before her. 'And look at you now! So handsome, white suits you so much more! I'm so glad you left off that horrid uniform of yours.'

'Is there a reason we're all here, mother?'

She pouted as she looked at him in mock hurt, and he rolled his eyes at her display. 'Is that any way to talk to your mother?' He didn't reply, and she went on, 'Since you ask, I called you here because I couldn't wait to show you this—after all, it concerns you most closely!'

He darted an enquiring glance at Conrart, but his brother just smiled. He blinked a little, wondering how long it had been since he'd seen him simply _smile_ like that—_as he had before the war_, his mind supplied—and for a moment, he felt infinitely grateful to his mother for whatever fool thing she was about to ask of him.

'Well, mother?'

'Here!' she cried, and he turned to see that she was pointing to a flower. 'I've finally done it, after all these years!'

He felt himself stiffen as he slowly understood what she was saying. 'Mother, you didn't—'

'Oh, she _did_, brother,' Wolfram said, his voice trembling with supressed amusement, and his dread multiplied.

Pushing her chair back, his mother caught up his hand, tugging him to his feet. He went with her reluctantly as she led him to the flowers, Wolfram following them. 'I give you, _Secret Gwendal_ !'

His eyes widened as he looked down at the flower. It was ten time worse than he could have imagined. Not only had his mother named a flower after him, but it was nothing like him. Altleast the ones named after Conrart were blue, his favourite colour, and the Beautiful Wolframs _did_ put one in mind of his youngest brother, but these…they were _nothing_ like him. They were white, which was a dignified colour, but they were also red. _Bright_ red.

'_Secret Gwendal_?' he sputtered out, and behind him, Wolfram began to laugh.

'Yes,' he heard Conrart say, as a chair was pushed back and his brother came to join them. There was sly amusement in his eyes now, though his face was perfectly composed into a serene smile. 'You see, Mother felt it was a most fitting name.'

'But _Secret_ Gwendal?' he insisted, shooting his mother a look. 'What utter nonsense.'

'What's all this about a secret?'

He turned in dread at the sound of the voice, hoping that if he wished it strongly enough, the person behind him would go away. Perhaps sparrows really _do_ bring bad luck, he thought wildly, as he turned to meet Anissina's mildly curious gaze.

'It's nothing,' he told her shortly, while Wolfram continued to laugh.

'Oh, Gwennie, you can be so mean, sometimes,' his mother said, taking Anissina by the hand and drawing her forward. 'I'm so glad you're here, Anissina, I've finally been able to grow it successfully,' she cried excitedly. 'Anissina, I give you: _Secret Gwendal _!'

He cringed at the moment of stunned silence from Anissina, anticipating the laughter that would undoubtedly follow. His mother had been trying to grow a flower named for him for years now, he had always been grateful she had declared him 'a most difficult subject, nothing seemed to fit'. Anissina had laughed herself silly when she had first heard of the idea, nearly fifty years ago now, suggesting more and more ridiculous names for the flower that would eventually come into the world. 'Frowning Gwendal' had been only one of them, and in the end even he had been forced to laughter at the thought of it.

Now, however, for some strange reason, the thought of her laughing at him was particularly hard to bear.

--

'_Secret Gwendal_?' Anissina said, looking down at the flowers the Maou was pointing at. She nodded slowly. 'Yes, it seems to fit.'

'You can't be serious, Anissina,' Wolfram choked out behind her, and she turned to find the boy laughing. She frowned at him before turning to Conrart, seeing the humour glimmering in his eyes, and she realised that they had expected her to find it funny, for some reason.

She turned, looking down at the flowers before her again. With a quick glance of permission at Lady Celi, she plucked one of them off its stem, holding it up so she could examine it more closely. Wonderingly, she touched it; the petals were white, but the heart of the flower was a deep, violent red. A subtle fragrance drifted up to her, and she smiled as she ran a gentle finger over the soft petals.

'It fits,' she said again, turning to Gwendal, smiling at the disconcerted look that had overtaken his face at her words. He looked remarkably different out of his uniform, the stiff, starchy look that always hung about him had vanished, and he suddenly looked again like the little boy she had once known.

She decided she liked this look.

She had not expected to find him here. She had come looking for Gunter, the man had disappeared, and she needed a test subject for the latest idea she had. She knew she could have asked Gwendal—he _had_ promised her, after all—but after that talk with Gisela a few weeks ago, she had started seeing him differently. Not like a friend, like someone she had known all her life, but as a _man_—a very attractive man, if truth be told.

It was not how she was accustomed to thinking of Gwendal, and so she had begun to avoid him, in the hopes that if she didn't have to look at him, perhaps his physical appeal would start to fade. After all, this was _Gwendal_. She had known him forever, and this _thing_ that had developed was only a few weeks old, at most.

It couldn't last.

And so she had been understandably taken aback to see him the gardens with his family—and out of his uniform—and she would've turned around and slipped away unnoticed, but at the mention of a 'secret', her damnable curiosity had led her to them.

'What nonsense,' he muttered now. 'How on earth does it _fit_ me?'

His brothers had stopped laughing now, and were looking at her quizzically, as if they wanted to know the answer, too. She rolled her eyes impatiently. Men. They couldn't see something when it was staring them right in the face. No heads for subtlety, that was the problem.

'It's like you,' she explained, holding the flower out to Gwendal so he could see it as she spoke. 'On the surface, it seems like nothing special, its petals are a dull, boring white. But _inside_,' she stroked the red centre with a finger, 'there is this. _Red_. Passionate and full of life and so vibrantly beautiful. Beauty that is hidden away, like the scent—it's very subtle, but _it's there_ if you know what you're looking for.'

She blushed as she looked up, suddenly aware that she had revealed too much, and saw that Gwendal was blushing, as well, his eyes still on the flower. It was then that she realised she was still stroking the inner petals, and she blushed again as she dropped her finger, confusedly moving the flower from one hand to the other.

'See?' Lady Celi cried triumphantly, and the moment was broken. She hid her relief as she turned to the Maou as the woman went on. 'I told you it fit, Gwendal. You should listen to your mother more often.'

He said nothing in reply, and Anissina decided that it was time to go. She had lingered here long enough, and the image of a blushing Gwendal in his white shirt was not something that would help her fight this strange new attraction to him.

'Has anyone seen Gunter?' she asked briskly, hoping to distance herself from what had just happened. They all shook their heads. 'Well, I can't imagine where he can be, unless he's hiding from me…'

She trailed off as she shook her head. 'Well, I'll be off now, I'm working on something new,' she said, giving the family an absentminded bow as she turned and walked away.

She didn't realise she had taken the flower with her until much later.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, all concrit is very welcome. I wrote this in the middle of exams in quite a hurry, so if there are any mistakes—grammatical _or_ canonical—please let me know, thanks. :)

Also, many thanks to **Paruparo**, **Mi Querida** and **Melodramatic Writer** and **Jenri92** for your lovely reviews. It is much appreciated. :)


	7. Parting

**Title:** Parting  
**Word Count:** 3,114  
**Rating:** PG  
**Prompt being used:** Word Prompts: Longing, bubbles, sheep  
**Timeline:** It's been about six years since the war with the humans.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

She walked briskly down the streets, scanning the wares on display at the market. Her supplies were running low, and her lab needed restocking. She could have asked one of the servants to go to the markets and obtain what she wanted, but she preffered to go herself. The men usually did not bother with the specifications, and the women often took too long, always stopping to chat with their friends. Best that she go herself; after all, the success of her inventions depended on the inputs that went into them. The future of science was at stake, and she was not one to treat it lightly.

Anissina stopped before a stall that sold metallic tubs. The man smiled at her hopefully as she inspected a small one that she knew would be perfect for her lab. His smile became wider as she straightened up and announced that she would be taking it.

'Of course, my lady,' he beamed. 'Anything else?'

He was smiling, but she could see the care lines that had formed around his eyes. Life had not been kind to him these past few years, she could see it in his face. The war, of course. She decided to take another tub, after all, it didn't hurt to have spares, and the man clearly needed the money. Trade had not been very regular since the war, what with their allies having suffered as they had. Negotiations and agreements had been drawn and signed, changed and redrawn and re-signed, but it would take time for things to return to normal.

She asked the guard with her—one of Gwendal's men—to collect the items on their way back, and it was when the man was talking to the owner about delivery timings that she saw it.

A child, no more than ten, was weaving his way through the crowds that thronged the market. Even as she watched, his hand darted out as he passed a stall selling bread, and he had snatched up a small loaf and stuffed it into his shirt.

Not without being seen, unfortunately.

One of the baker's men grabbed him as he tried to escape and the boy was dragged back kicking and struggling.

'You little thief!' the baker snarled. 'How dare you!'

A small crowd was already beginning to form around them, and angry voices from the men egged the baker on in his ire. Anissina pushed her way through the crowd, shouldering people aside, and saw that the man had just raised his hand to smack the child—

'Stop!'

It was her voice, but it was not her hand that had stopped him. The baker turned to look up into the face of an angry man behind him.

'You would beat up a hungry child?'

'My children are hungry, too! If I go about giving away all my stock what'll I feed _them_?'

The man looked vaguely familiar, and it took Anissina a moment before she could place him. Yozak. Yozak Gurrier, one of the Lutenberg veterans. She remembered him now, he had been part of the parade after Conrart's victorious return.

'I'll pay for it,' she said, stepping forward out of the crowd. The men parted for her, and she was soon facing the baker. She dropped a few coins into his hand and he thanked her when she waved away the change. She looked down at the boy with a smile, but he only scowled up at her. She blinked, and before she could say anything, he had taken off again, melting into the hustle and bustle of the market around them.

'What the—'

'You expected a thank you, my lady?'

She turned at the sardonic question, her eyes narrowed. Yozak was smiling nastily at her, mouth turned upward into a smirk.

'You'll have to forgive him, he's an orphan, he doesn't have anyone to teach him how one should address one of the _nobles_.'

She ignored the jibe, frowning as she asked him, 'How do you know so much about him? Have you seen him before?'

'Yes,' Yozak answered, turning away from the stall as the baker indicated they were blocking traffic. 'I've seen him before. He was here last week as well, only he got away without getting caught that time.'

'And you just let him _go_?'

The man glared at her. 'I was supposed to hand him over to the guards? Have him thrown in the dungeons, maybe?'

'No, you are _supposed_ to let the proper people know about it, someone like Gwendal, or Lord von Christ—'

'It's being taken care of,' the man said dismissively, and she frowned, falling into step with him as he started to walk away.

'Are _you_ taking care of it?' she asked suspiciously. He didn't reply, and she went on. 'You know where he's gone, don't you? Take me to him, please.'

His eyes darted to hers at the plea, and he stopped walking to look at her assessingly.

'They need to be with _families_, Yozak,' she went on, pressing her advantage. 'I'm sure we can find people willing to take them in. They can't live on the streets, it isn't right. They're only _children_!'

'The street is all they know,' Yozak shot back angrily. 'Where were you when they _needed_ you—just after the war, when they had lost parents and homes both?'

She bowed her head under the onslaught, feeling the truth of his words. 'I wasn't there then, but I'm here now,' she said softly. 'Please, let me help.'

He gave her a long, measuring look before nodding slowly. 'Alright. But the guard stays here.'

She relayed his instructions to the guard, who nodded unhappily. 'Please, be careful, my lady,' he implored her. 'If anything were to happen to you on my watch, Lord von Voltaire would…' he broke off and shuddered, and she hid a smile as she assured him she knew how to take care of herself.

Soon Anissina was following Yozak as he began to lead her through the grimy alleys and byways of the city, the houses steadily growing closer and closer to each other, cutting off the late morning light. He stopped before a run down house, and tapped out a special knock against the door. An answering knock was rapped out on the other side, and the door opened a crack. A small eye inspected both of them carefully. Then the door was shut again, and Anissina heard the child yell: 'It's Yozak! And he's brought a _lady_!'

She chuckled as Yozak smiled, and then there was a sound of running feet and the door was opened again, and out came the child she had seen in the market.

'Why did you bring _her_ here?' the boy asked Yozak, glaring at her suspiciously.

Yozak didn't reply, and she realised she had to do this alone. 'I…I wanted to help,' she said lamely, wincing at how it sounded. The boy looked at her incredulously before turning to Yozak again. 'You told us to be careful of adults, _especially_ if they want to help.' He was scowling now as he repeated his question. 'Why did you bring her here?'

'What's your name?'

He looked at her defiantly when she interrupted, but after a moment of staring at her silently, he muttered sullenly, 'Gerhart.'

'Where are your parents?'

'Dead,' he replied. 'Mother died a long time ago, and Father died in the war.'

'Do you have no relatives, no one to take you into their family?' she asked sadly, knowing the answer even as she asked the question.

Sure enough, he shook his head, and she sighed. 'How many children are in there?'

'Why do you want to know?' he asked warily, eyeing her distrustfully.

'I want to see if I can arrange for families for you,' she told him. 'It isn't right that you are living on the streets, stealing for food.'

'I don't steal all the time!' Gerhart shot back. 'Yozak gives us money for food every month!'

She looked at Yozak with new eyes now. No doubt he had arranged for their lodgings as well, the rent must be coming out of his pocket every month. But he had done what he could for the children, and now it was her turn. She would use what influence and power she was born to, and _help_ these children.

'We're doing just fine,' Gerhart went on defiantly. 'We don't need _you_.'

She had just opened her mouth when the door was pulled open again, and a small child of about six came running out. Clearly she was the boy's younger sister, the resemblance was unmistakable. With her came a gaggle of children, waving and calling to Yozak when they caught sight of him, until atleast fifteen children were standing in the street with them.

'What are you doing here?' Gerhart hissed at them in dismay. 'I told you all to wait inside!'

'Will you really find a family for us?' the little girl asked as she came forward to address Anissina, even as her brother tried to push her behind him.

'Yes, I will,' Anissina replied. She knew it was dangerous to promise such a thing to a child, but she also knew she would not rest until she had made it come true. All these children _would_ find homes. She would see to it.

'Brother, please, let's go with her,' the girl said, her cry echoed by the others. 'Yozak brought her here, and…and…she has hair just like Father's, remember?' She cast her a look of infinite longing, eyes lingering on her hair, and Anissina felt a lump rise in her throat. Gerhart blinked furiously at the mention of his father, and she realised suddenly how very young he was. He played the leader to these children, but he was really no more than a child himself.

'She's a good person, Gerhart,' Yozak said softly, and the boy looked up at him. 'I trust her. If she says she'll do it, she will.'

She gave him a look of gratitude, and he smiled back at her as the children began clustering around her, demanding to know more, when could they leave, when would they find a family, and where would they stay in the meanwhile, could they stay in her house, was it very big…

She shook her head at herself as she wondered wryly what she had just gotten herself into. But as she saw Gerhart start to cry when Yozak pulled him into a hug, she knew she had done the right thing, impulsive or not.

* * *

Anissina looked down at the list in her hand as she walked down the hall to the Throne Room. It was all here, all the information she could gather about the orphans she had brought to the castle yesterday. Now if only the Maou would agree...she clenched a fist. Lady Celi had to agree. She _had_ to.

She had promised the children, after all.

She was just going over it again in her head, practising what she needed to say to convince both Lady Celi _and_ von Spitzveg, when she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned her head, and saw the Maou herself, in what was the royal sitting room. The door was ajar, and she could see that Lady Celi was standing at the window. Frowning, she entered the room.

'Your Majesty?'

The other woman started at the noise, turning to face her. 'Anissina,' she cried, 'I didn't hear you come in! Sit down, dear!'

She sat at the little table by the window, looking up at the Maou curiously. She couldn't quite figure out how or why, but Lady Celi seemed…different today. Shrugging it off, she spoke. 'Your Majesty, I have a request—'

'I'm not the Maou anymore.'

She stopped, looking at the other woman in shock. 'What?'

'I abdicated the throne.' She could only stare in disbelief, and Lady Celi continued. 'There was no use in hiding from it any longer, we all know I am no good as a ruler. I decided to finally step down and make way for someone who would do the most good for the country.'

'You don't mean your brother, do you, your—Lady Celi?'

'No. As much as I love my brother, even I can see he is not what Shin Makoku needs.'

'Does Gwendal know about this?'

Lady Celi shook her head. 'I've only just announced my decision to my brother. We yet have to call for a council of all the Ten Nobles so that they can accept my formal resignation and announce my regent.'

Anissina shook her head, still unable to believe that the Maou had abdicated her throne—so simply and so suddenly.

'I want Gwendal to become regent in my stead.'

She nodded blankly. Yes, he _was_ the best suited for it, but… 'When do the nobles arrive?'

'Tomorrow.'

'I see.' She stood up and bowed. 'Then I will leave you both to it. You no doubt have much to do before then.'

That had been yesterday.

Now she was in her laboratory, working at one of her experiments and steadily ignoring the fact that a meeting of the nobles was currently in progress in the same castle.

She was sure her brother would second Gwendal's nomination as Regent; Nikolai had always thought him to be a most able ruler—he had certainly praised the Voltaire province often enough. Lord von Christ would also vote for Gwendal, but when it came to the rest of the nobles, she couldn't even begin to guess at their actions.

Her hands were steady as she added the reagent to the beaker, but her mind was in turmoil as she wondered again how the meeting was progressing. It had been nearly three hours since it had begun, and she wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

She looked up as the door to her lab was thrown open. Gwendal stormed into the room, face drawn into a threatening scowl, and her heart dropped. Clearly, things had not gone well.

'What happened?' she cried, setting down the beaker as her hand twitched.

'Sheep!' Gwendal thundered, clenching his fists as he stalked down the room toward her. 'They call themselves _nobles_ but they're nothing but sheep, easily led and easily betrayed!'

'They didn't—they didn't _reject_ your nomination, did they?' she asked, standing up angrily.

'Apparently I am not _old_ enough to be considered for the position of Regent,' he spat. 'Apparently I am too young and rash. No doubt they were persuaded of that fact by my dear _Uncle Stoffel_.'

'But didn't my brother Densham second you? And Gunter as well?'

He made a dismissive gesture. 'Three against seven. We never stood a chance. And when I protested, I was _gently asked_ to take a break from court duties and go visit my own province,' he snarled.

'They _exiled_ you?' she cried, mind reeling at what he was telling her.

'No, of course not,' he replied with a bitter smile. 'No, I was gently persuaded that perhaps I was spending too much time taking care of the Maou's duties, and that it is time I take some rest. I was advised not to return until the twenty seventh Maou arrives.'

'I'm coming with you.' She couldn't stay, not when Gwendal had been asked to leave.

'No.'

She frowned at him, and he sighed as he stepped closer to her. 'You have to stay here,' he said softly. 'The last time I was gone from this castle, Conrart was sent to Lutenberg. Gunter couldn't stop Stoffel _then_, he was all by himself, but now that you're here, too…'

He trailed off, but she understood. 'I'll stay,' she said softly, and he smiled at her in gratitude. 'When will I see you again?' she cried, suddenly realising just how long it might be before she saw him smile at her like that again.

'The council asked me to return with the twenty seventh Maou, but it was only a suggestion,' Gwendal said slowly. 'I'm sure they would not mind if I were to return to Covenant Castle in a few years.'

She nodded sadly. 'When do you leave?'

'Tomorrow.'

She gasped. 'So soon?' He nodded in reply, and she bowed her head. 'I'll miss you,' she said softly, and then she looked up when she felt herself being drawn forward into Gwendal's arms. 'I'll miss you, too,' he confessed softly, and she smiled sadly.

They stayed that way for a long time.

* * *

It was late evening the next day by the time Gwendal left Covenant Castle for Voltaire, and Anissina was bone tired.

She had been with the servants until late afternoon, seeing to the temporary arrangements for the orphans she had brought with her two days ago, Lady Celi helping her in whatever small way she could. The former Maou had promised to help her convince the Regent that her idea of rehabilitating the orphans was a worthy one, though Anissina did not have much faith in the woman's word.

The children had been happy to see her again, and had told her stories of Yozak's latest visit the previous morning. Lady Celi had seemed quite taken with them, and they had spent a few happy hours with the children before remembering that Gwendal was due to leave that day.

He left just after one last supper with his family, and she had been one of the people who had stood at the gates and watched as he had ridden away. She had blinked away the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes, and had decided then that perhaps a little self-pampering was in order.

Accordingly, she was now in the women's baths, the large room deserted due to the lateness of the hour. She drew a bath for herself, adding some scented bubble bath in a fit of pique. The strawberry scented bubbles soon filled the tub, and she sighed as she entered the warm water.

It did not relax her, however, and she ended up sitting on the bench among the bubbles with her knees drawn to her chest, resting her head on her arms. It took her a while, but she finally shook off the despondency that had crept over her, and rose to step out of the tub.

A few minutes later, she was fully dressed again and walking down the halls to the temporary dormitory for the orphans. There was still time enough to wish them goodnight. Gwendal was counting on her, and so were the children.

She would not let either of them down.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)


	8. Moments

**Rating:** PG-13 for two of them, I guess.  
**Any Warnings:** None, really.  
**Prompt being used:** Set of 10 (or more) related one-sentence fics—Each sentence should be able to stand alone but the grouping should also function together in some way.  
**Timeline:** Set in the years between the war with the humans and Yuuri's arrival.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

**Important**

Gwendal had been gone for six months before she suddenly realised how much a part of her life he had become; she had had a bad day and Gunter von Christ had gotten on her absolute last nerve with his tendency to drama, and there wasn't anyone to listen to her vent her frustration.

**Out of Sight, Out of Mind**

He had been sent away in disgrace, so he decided to _enjoy_ his time away, just to spite the Nobles, and with that in mind, he plunged himself so fully into the workings of his province that it was a month before he even thought about what—and _who_—he had left behind.

**Busy**

She was busy, all of a sudden—trying to find homes for all the orphans, with help from Yozak and Lady Celi, of course, and keeping track of what von Spitzveg was upto, making plans with Gunter to counter the Regent's more harebrained ideas—which was why she didn't start any new experiments; it certainly wasn't because she missed her favourite test subject.

**Ennui**

Voltaire was beautiful, and peaceful, and it was nearly a year before his determined good cheer flagged and he had to admit it was _boring_, too, and that was when he decided to take up knitting again; after all, he had to show Anissina that he was capable of _improvement_, if only to stop all the snide comments on his 'appalling lack of talent'.

**Absence Makes the Heart Grow Fonder**

She woke up with a gasp, her heart pounding and heat between her legs; and the only things left of her half remembered dream were flashing blue eyes and the feel of long, clever hands moving on her body.

**Contrast**

Densham came to visit, and his intentions were good; the man sought only to ease his loneliness, after all, but it was still hard to bear, especially since he was such a contrast to—and therefore a reminder of—his sister.

**Resolve**

After the orphans had been settled to her satisfaction, she took up her experiments again, despite his being away, because her life didn't revolve around _any_ man, dammit, regardless of how much she missed laughing over his reactions to being one of her test subjects.

**Lack of Practise**

He missed her so much he felt compelled to reach out to her, if only to receive a letter in her handwriting in return, but when he sat down with quill and paper he did not know what to write; after all, nearly all his life she had never been more than a few doors away from him.

**Stubborn**

She had not written to him, despite a separation of nearly two years, because, well, if he missed her, _he_ could have written to her, and she could be as stubborn as he was, but when Conrart announced he would be visiting his older brother and everyone _else_ had a letter or parcel to be handed over, she deliberated over it for a whole night, and in the end, scribbled a hasty note which said only, _'Come back soon, the future of science demands it.'_

**Disappointment**

He dreamed she had suddenly come to visit him in his bedchamber; late at night so that no one would know, laughing as she kissed him awake—when he woke up, he was more disappointed than he cared to admit, even to himself.

* * *

A/N: Many, many thanks to everyone who took time to review, you guys really make my day. :)

-So how many of you tuned into Episode 89 of Season three? Even if you haven't been keeping up with the events of the latest season, watch this episode. It'll have you laughing and squeeing equally. ;)

-Thanks for reading, all comments and concrit are very welcome. :)


	9. Almost

**Rating:** PG-13, I guess  
**Any Warnings:** None, really.  
**Prompt being used:** Quote: "Apparently that isn't his/her natural hair color after all."  
**Timeline:** Yuuri is arriving!

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

'Is it true?'

He brought his heaving horse under control, looking down at Conrart as he waited for an answer.

His brother nodded. 'Lady Ulrike tells us that His Majesty is somewhere in Shin Makoku even as we speak.'

Gwendal patted his horse as he dismounted; he had ridden hard and fast and he was grateful that the animal had not let him down.

He followed Conrart into the castle, determinedly _not_ looking around to see what had changed in the years he had been away. He had lived in this castle for years, he'd be damned if he'd start gawking like a _tourist_.

They went straight to the throne room, where his mother and Stoffel were waiting. He was pleased to see that Stoffel hadn't taken the Maou's throne himself; rather, the man was sitting in a chair he had had placed at the foot of the throne.

He frowned as he caught his first glimpse of his uncle. From what he knew of the man, Stoffel would be very reluctant to give up his power, but his uncle smiled serenely at him as he entered. He was immediately suspicious, and decided to be on his guard.

'Gwendal!'

He turned to his mother at her joyous cry, and allowed himself to be hugged and held close in public. She was visibly overjoyed to see him again, her eyes shone and she looked to be on the verge of tears. He gave her a small smile as he disengaged himself from her, and she beamed back at him.

'We have much to discuss,' Stoffel said, standing up and leading the way to the adjoining room. 'Come.' He turned at the entrance to the room, and spoke to Conrart: 'I'm sure you have tasks of your own to attend to, Lord Weller, so let us not keep you.'

Conrart said nothing, his face going blank as he bowed and walked away without a word. Gwendal gritted his teeth at the slight; Conrart had given all he could to Shin Makoku, he had proved himself more of a patriot than Stoffel could _ever_ be, and still the man had the audacity to treat his brother that way.

He clenched his fists as he saw his mother gaze after Conrart sorrowfully—without a word—before averting her gaze as she entered the room. He followed her, giving a wide berth to his uncle's retainer, and saw that Gunter was waiting for them, reading glasses perched on his nose, and a large map of Shin Makoku spread on the table before him.

'Welcome back, Gwendal,' he said, looking up with a tired smile. He nodded back at the man, and crossed the room to stand at his side and look down at the map, too.

'Gunter, if you would like to tell Gwendal all that has been happening in his absence,' Stoffel prompted, and Gunter's lips thinned as he looked up at the man and nodded. 'Yes, your Excellency.'

He looked down into the map again, and Gwendal followed his gaze.

'Lady Ulrike tells us she cannot pinpoint the exact location of the new Maou because he has never visited this world before, and his life force is unfamiliar to her. Therefore, he is not visible to her, and we must search for him ourselves.'

'When did he arrive?'

'Nearly an hour ago. Lady Ulrike said she felt the Great One's power drawing him here, but now it is up to us to find the new Maou.'

'Is there any way of identifying him?' Gwendal asked, suddenly struck by how vast a task this was. No wonder Gunter had seemed so relieved to see him.

'Conrart told us that the new Maou is almost certainly a double black,' Gunter replied, taking off his glasses and rubbing his forehead. 'Which should make him easy to identify, wouldn't you agree?'

'A _double black_?!' He looked at Gunter in amazement, and the man nodded.

'That is what Conrart says.'

'I see.'

He stared down at the map, already calculating the number of men they would need to do a proper and thorough search, and whether the other Nobles would have to be involved, as well. When he had gotten the carrier pigeon that summoned him because the Maou had arrived, his heart had leapt at the thought that he could finally leave Voltaire, and he had assumed that he would arrive to greet the new king. Now, however…

He leaned forward, resting his hands on the map. 'We'll need to search every province,' he said, and Gunter nodded. 'Word has already been sent to each of the Nobles,' he replied. 'They shall each be on the lookout, but it is up to us to search the more far flung areas of the kingdom. I was planning to send Conrart and Yozak to the areas along the borders with the human countries, they can search there without any fear of the humans' magic.'

Gwendal nodded. He would have to send a pigeon to Voltaire castle, as well, asking them to take up the search. 'I shall have my men stationed at the border checkposts of each province. Granted, a double black will cause comment and commotion wherever he goes, but we must be prepared for everything. I, myself, will be at the checkposts to the capital city.'

'I wish you luck,' Stoffel said, and he looked up to meet the other man's eyes. 'We must all hope to find His Majesty quickly. After all, the future of Shin Makoku depends on it.'

Stoffel smiled at him, and Gwendal narrowed his eyes. Yes, the man was _definitely_ planning something.

--

He got his answer three hours later, when a messenger came from Covenant castle for him, with urgent summons from his mother: the Maou had been found.

He took off as quickly as he could, somehow feeling suspicious of the whole thing. The Maou had been found too easily for someone who did not know the language and the country. But then, he _was_ a conspicuous double black, so perhaps it was not so strange that he had been found so soon.

As a precaution, however, he sent a carrier pigeon to Conrart before he set out, just to check up on a few little details.

He entered the castle and dismounted easily, smiling wryly at the feeling of déjà vu he experienced. He made his way quickly to the throne room, certain that he would find everyone there. The murmur of conversation reached his ears, and he entered to find Stoffel in his familiar throne, his retainer Raven a shadow at his side, as always. His mother was seated at his uncle's side, but she looked pensive, while Gunter sat next to her, frowning.

'Well, where is he?'

'Ah, Gwendal,' Stoffel said, smiling. 'Direct as always.' He turned to his retainer. 'Raven, be so kind as to escort our new Maou here.' The man bowed, and moved away. 'Have a seat, nephew,' Stoffel went on, still with that damned smile in place. 'Make yourself comfortable.'

He clenched his fist and ignored his anger as he took his seat next to Gunter. He leaned closer to the man, muttering quietly so that Stoffel wouldn't hear him. 'Who found the Maou?'

'One of Stoffel's men, which is why both Lady Celi and I were suspicious. We felt it was best for you to be here as well.'

He nodded, agreeing with the wisdom of the words. At that moment, the doors to the throne room were opened again, and Raven entered and bowed.

'His Majesty King Yuuri Shibuya, Maou of Shin Makoku.'

A black haired, black eyed man entered, sweeping them all a haughty look. He was dressed as Stoffel was, and Gwendal narrowed his eyes at the proprietary manner in which he assessed the room.

'So this is your throne room, is it?' he drawled in a bored tone. 'Well, I suppose it will have to do.'

Gwendal exchanged a glance with Gunter. The man seemed to speak their language easily enough, which was surprising. Conrart had told them that anyone from the alternate world would find it difficult to speak their own tongue, but this man seemed to have no problems. He also seemed to be overly familiar with the castle, something else which did not sit right.

'Welcome, your Majesty,' his mother said, standing up with a smile. 'We are so pleased that you have come, at last.'

The man nodded to her, and Raven murmured quietly at his side: 'Allow me to introduce our twenty sixth Maou to Your Majesty. This is Lady Cecilie von Spitzveg, whom Your Majesty will be replacing.'

This had gone on long enough. Gwendal stood abruptly, narrowing his eyes as he looked down at the double black. 'Forgive me, but we cannot just accept that you are the Maou without proof.'

'Proof!?' the man snarled angrily. 'You would demand _proof_ from your king? The insolence! I should have you—'

'Now, now, your Majesty,' Stoffel broke in, 'Lord von Voltaire is only doing what he thinks best. You wouldn't expect any less from the Commander of your Army, would you?'

The man subsided at the words, and now Gwendal was almost certain that he was a fake, it seemed as if Stoffel had jumped in before he could give it away by saying too much. Now all he had to do was wait for the message from Conrart, and then he could be _sure_.

He glared at the man claiming to be the Maou, and the impostor glared back at him. 'We need some proof,' he reiterated, and Stoffel stood up, as well.

'What would you have our Maou do, Gwendal?' he asked, still in that _reasonable_ tone of voice, as if the man wanted nothing more than to satisfy him completely.

'If he is truly from another world, he should be able to tell us a little about it,' he replied, hoping desperately that Conrart's reply would come soon. He couldn't betray himself with a glance at the window, but he could've _sworn_ he could hear the flap of wings coming his way…

'What's that?' Gunter murmured quietly, and everyone turned to the window. 'It looks like a carrier pigeon,' he went on. He cut a glance at Gwendal, who nodded imperceptibly. 'I shall see to it, please do not let yourselves be disturbed,' Gunter said smoothly as he stood up and made his way to the window.

'What do you want to know about the other world?' the king asked, now back to his bored drawl. 'It is very much like this one, with large provinces, and a king ruling over the land—'

'Does this king know about you, the Maou?'

'Of course not,' Yuuri said with a smirk. 'Surely he would see me as a rival for his power. I have spent my life pretending to be an ordinary citizen until the moment when I could come here to claim my birthright.'

Gunter stepped back toward them, and passed the note into Gwendal's hand. He looked down at it, and smirked in triumph. 'And could you tell us something of the language you speak there, your Majesty?'

'Language?'

He looked up to see a momentary spasm of worry cross the man's face. _Got you_, he thought exultantly, cutting his eyes to Stoffel's own impassive face. He could see it all now, his uncle had planted a fake double black somewhere, coaching him to impersonate the new Maou; but he did not know the things only Conrart knew, because he had never thought any information a _half breed_ like Conrart could give them would be worthwhile.

'Yes,' he went on, enjoying the look on the impostor's face. 'Language. What is it that you speak there?'

'Lord von Voltaire, your questions grow impertinent!' the fake king shouted, hoping he could bluff his way out of it with bluster. 'I should have you—'

'No, I shall have _you_ arrested for attempting to impersonate the king!' Gwendal thundered, crumpling the note in his hand and slipping it into his pocket. 'Guards!' The doors burst open, and five soldiers rushed in. 'Arrest him, and have him taken down into the dungeons. I shall be down to deal with him momentarily.'

The man went wild then, there really was no other explanation for it. With a desperate look at the guards, he flung up an arm and called on his maryokou. Before his strike could attack the guards, however, Gunter called up a barrier around the soldiers, and Raven had disarmed the man with a blow to the head. He collapsed to the floor, unconscious, and the spell that had been used to change the colour of his hair faded away, leaving it a pale purple.

'Apparently that wasn't his natural hair colour, after all,' his mother said gaily, laughing as she looked up at him, her eyes shining with pride. 'Well _done_, Gwendal.'

He gave her a smile in return, but it stiffened in place when Stoffel smiled at him as well, congratulating him on saving them all from making a grave mistake. _I know you're behind it, you bastard_, he thought. _I know it, and you_ know _I know it, but you're also smart enough to cover your tracks, so I'll find nothing when I question this man, and all we can do is_ smile _at each other like this._

'Excellency!'

He turned away from Stoffel's smug smile and looked at the messenger that had just run into the room.

'Excellency, Lord Weller has just sent a dispatch! He's found the Maou!'

--

She stopped on her third circuit of her lab, clenching her hands behind her back as she tried to get herself under control. It seemed like everything had happened in one day, Gwendal's return, the Maou's arrival, his engagement to Wolfram and the subsequent duel—with the new Maou's impressive display of maryokou—oh, how she'd _love_ to get her hands on him for one of her experiments…

And Gwendal hadn't come to see her yet.

Granted, the man was busy, but he could have spared five minutes of his time for her! He _knew_ she had no way of meeting the Maou right away, the least he could have done was to find a moment to tell her about their new king.

Of course, it had been nearly nine years since they had spoken at all—they had only been able to share a brief nod of greeting and a quick clasp of the hand when he had passed her in the corridor on the way to dinner with the Maou—and she was looking forward to catching up with him, too.

And _still_ he had not come.

With a sigh, she turned away from the door, where she had paused in her pacing, and strode briskly to the beaker where her latest potion was brewing. Lady Celi had been very impressed by it, gushing that the test sample she'd left in the bath had directly led to Wolfram's engagement to the Maou. She had immediately requested another large bottle. Anissina smirked as she stirred the potion with a spoon and turned off the burner underneath the beaker. People called her a 'crazy inventor', but it just took them a while to see the genius behind her work.

She held her hand over the beaker and called on her maryokou, directing the wind so that it quickly cooled the potion. Perfect, she thought, lifting it up and examining the pale pink liquid for any impurities. Taking the bottle Celi had given her, she poured the potion quickly and expertly into it. Setting the beaker aside, she made her way to the door and started walking down the moon brightened corridors. Perhaps now that the Maou was asleep, she could find a few minutes to talk to Gwendal.

Speak of the devil, she thought, a smile crossing her face when she caught sight of his broad silhouette before her.

'Gwendaaal!' she called, and he started as he turned around. 'Just the man I wanted to see!' she cried, putting on a serious face. 'I've been _waiting_ for you to return, there're a few inventions that need your maryokou—'

She broke off at the frightened look that crossed his face, doing her best to hold in her laughter, but it was too much. He frowned when she started laughing, narrowing his eyes at her in anger when she had to clap her free hand to her mouth to stifle the giggles.

'Very funny,' he said coldly, and she laughed harder.

'Serves you right for being too busy to meet an old friend,' she cried unrepentantly. 'Really, Gwendal, you could have spared five minutes to tell me about the new Maou!'

'I _was_ busy,' he snapped back, crossing his arms defensively. 'Not all of us spend our time making useless 'inventions',' he said, putting a world of scorn into the last word.

'Useless!' she cried, stung to the quick. 'Who made the swords and shields of your army stronger? Who invented Trebuchet-kun that was such a success in all the battles? Who—'

'And what's your _latest_ invention?' he interrupted challengingly, looking down at the bottle in her hands. 'It doesn't seem very _useful_ to me.'

'This resulted in Wolfram's engagement, I'll have you know!'

'So _you_ were the one responsible for that!'

'And your mother was _very_ happy with it, too!'

'So what about you?' he asked her, narrowing his eyes and moving closer. 'Are _you_ engaged, too?'

'Engaged?' she asked, frowning in confusion. 'Of course not. Why do you ask?'

'You've been exposed to that perfume for a while now, haven't you? And since it's success is measured in _proposals_,' he scoffed, 'I was wondering if you had received any. Or made any.'

'Well, that just shows how little you know,' she snapped back at him. 'I've built an immunity to this perfume, after all, I've been around it for nearly a month now. And besides, there's no one I was even _remotely_ interested in. This castle is only full of irritating dunderheads like _you_!'

'Good,' he said softly, and she realised the insult had sailed right over his head. He took another step closer, and her hand tightened on the neck of the bottle in her hand as she stood her ground. Had he always been this tall, she wondered dazedly, staring up at him as he loomed over her. He raised a hand to her cheek, and her breath stuttered in her throat.

'Gwendal,' she said softly, her own hand finding its way to his collar as she took a step closer to him, unable to help herself. She forgot what she wanted to say, though, now that she was close enough to see that his eyes had dilated, and that his gaze was riveted to her open mouth…

Her heart was pounding, her breath coming in harsh pants, and he was staring at her with such _heat_ in his eyes that she couldn't take it anymore; she leaned up, her mouth a whisper away from his, his hot breath ghosting over her lips and making her shiver as she strained upwards to close the small gap between them…

'Gwen!'

She gasped as he stepped away, blinking furiously as if dazed. His gaze skittered away from hers as he drew in a harsh inhale and turned to greet the newcomer.

'Mother.'

'Oooh, forgive me, dear,' she cried as she came up to them, the mischief in her eyes positively indecent as she looked at the two of them. 'I didn't _interrupt_ anything, did I?'

'What _is_ it, mother?'

'Gunter wants to meet you,' Lady Celi replied, her eyes dancing, even as a muscle ticked in her son's cheek. 'Something about one of the frontier villages.'

He nodded, and Anissina caught his brief moment of hesitation before he turned away. He didn't look back at her, however, and she seethed as she watched him stride away from her as if they hadn't just almost—

'Oh, is that my perfume?'

She looked up, startled out of her thoughts. Lady Celi pointed at the bottle in her hands, repeating her question, and she nodded.

'Yes, of course, Lady Celi.' Anissina handed the bottle over to the woman, and bowed as she took it. 'Goodnight, my lady.'

She did not wait for a reply, and thus she did not see Lady Celi smile, and fondly pat the bottle in her hands as she gazed after her.

* * *

A/N: So Yuuri is finally here! Yay! :)

Also, a trebuchet is something like a catapult.

Also also: many thanks to **Stucco** for your wonderful reviews. I'd really appreciate it, though, if all anonymous reviewers could leave an email id where I could reply to them. Your comments and kind words really brighten my day, and I'd love to thank you for them personally. :)

Many thanks to all the readers, all concrit and comments are very welcome. :)


	10. Best Served Cold

**Title:** Best Served Cold  
**Rating:** PG-13, for some insinuations, I guess.  
**Prompt being used:** Perspective Change—Retell an event from canon through a different perspective.  
**Timeline:** Set during Season one, when Yuuri is on the hunt for (Melgib) Morgif.  
**Summary:** Anissina plots her revenge against Gwendal for leaving her high and dry. Things do not quite go according to plan, however.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

How dared he!

How _dared_ he?!

Anissina seethed as she sat at her desk and crumpled up a sheet of parchment. It had been three weeks, but the anger was still so very fresh; her blood still boiled every time she thought about The Incident, as she had taken to calling it.

Bad enough that Gwendal had just turned around and left without a backward glance when Lady Celi had given him Gunter's message, but then once he had returned to the castle…

He had greeted her perfectly civilly when he had seen her, like he had a hundred times before, as if absolutely _nothing_ had happened between them, as if their very relationship hadn't suddenly changed.

Well, of course, once he'd made it clear he wasn't going to acknowledge this thing between them, she'd decided she'd be _damned_ if she'd break first and confront him about it. She'd keep silent and ignore it all—just like him—for a hundred years, if that was how long it would take him to grow a pair and _just_—

Her rage and frustration boiled over, then, and she furiously scratched out her rough diagrams for another invention, pressing the point of her quill deep into the paper. With no other outlet for her anger, she had spent the past few weeks in her lab drawing up elaborate war devices, each meant to humiliate the enemy as much as defeat them.

She took particular pleasure in the idea of testing out these inventions—she even had detailed diagrams of what would happen to said test subject—all of which featured a certain grey haired Mazoku.

But it still wasn't enough.

She wanted to make Gwendal _suffer_.

Anissina got her opportunity when the Maou finally returned to Shin Makoku. She had been surprised when he had decided to leave on an expedition to retrieve Morgif, he had spoken so forcefully to her of preventing war, but then it was only to expected, she supposed. Men never could resist weapons—the more powerful, the better.

She was sitting in the tea room and having a late brunch, ignoring Gunter's wails about how he hoped the Maou was safe on his journey to find the legendary Morgif, when the door opened and Gwendal strode in.

She stiffened as his gaze moved to her, but she kept the serene smile on her face and nodded politely at him. He turned to address Gunter, and she looked away, clenching her teeth. She nearly dropped her teacup, though, when Gunter suddenly grabbed Gwendal by the head.

Her instinctive reaction was to laugh, but when she saw the discomfort in Gwendal's eyes as he shook himself free, she filed the information away for later use. She didn't yet know how it would prove useful, but half of science was observation, as she always liked to say. She stayed in her seat as Gwendal turned and left without a backward glance, stating that he couldn't deal with Gunter in his state. Soon the sound of his footsteps had died away and she felt some of the tension leave her as she carefully set her teacup down.

'Oh, Lady Anissina, what am I going to do?' Gunter sighed as he sat down across from her and absently poured himself a cup of tea. 'King Yuuri is gone, with only Conrart and Yozak—and that little brat—to keep him safe! Oh, why did I not accompany them? I never should have let Gwendal talk me into staying behind!'

Anissina answered with a preoccupied nod, still wondering how it was possible that _she_ could be attracted to such a _stupid_ man. She was an intelligent woman, she knew there were other fish in the sea, but there was something about Gwendal that—

'Hmm?'

'You're right!'

She looked up at that, wondering what she had just inadverdently agreed to. Gunter had his hands clasped before him in an attitude of determination, and his eyes were narrowed. 'You're absolutely right, Lady Anissina! I need to do all I can to keep the Maou safe, and that means being _prepared_.'

He got up with a nod of gratitude, leaving her staring bemusedly after his departing form.

She soon found out what he had meant, though, when the fumes first hit her. At first it was a mild cough. Then her eyes began to water. But worst of all was the _smell_. She had to keep a hand clamped over her mouth to keep her gag reflex at bay, and after opening all the windows of her lab and vainly waiting fifteen minutes to see if the fumes would dissipate, she had had enough.

She gritted her teeth as she placed a handkerchief over her mouth and nose before opening her door. She had a sinking suspicion that _she_ had somehow encouraged Gunter to make another one of his fortune telling potions, and she made a vow that from now on she would pay _attention_ when he spoke, even if she had to listen to endless praise of their new Maou.

She staggered down the hallways, passing the similary afflicted, many of them fleeing toward Gisela's office. She didn't know if they were going for medical attention or because they hoped the healer would be able to reason with her father, but she was sure the only one able to handle Gunter now would be Gwendal. And that was where she was headed, because much as she loathed the idea of going to _him_ for anything, considering their current situation, she wanted _results_.

She kicked his door open, and he looked up, frowning.

--

Gwendal stood up in alarm as Anissina seized her stomach and rushed to the open window. A noxious odour followed her into the room, and he hurried to shut the door behind her. Once his office was safe from whatever madness was currently gripping Convenant Castle, he turned to her.

She was taking in deep breaths of fresh air, still holding her handkerchief to her mouth. He moved toward her, worried at the pasty white of her face, and the way she clutched at the window sill with her other hand.

'Are you alright?' he asked her, laying a cautious hand on her arm. She turned fiery blue eyes on him, her glittering gaze dropping to his hand, and he pulled it away, flushing. They had hardly spoken since that night three weeks ago, when they had almost kissed, and certainly this had been the first time he had touched her since then.

He turned to face her, leaning back against the window sill as she took deep breaths, obviously working to quell her nausea. Her eyes were closed, and he took the opportunity to study her.

She did not seem any different from the woman he had known for nearly all his life, and he wondered that he could suddenly see her so differently when she had not changed at all. But then, perhaps _he_ was the one who had changed, he mused. He knew he was the same outwardly, but he _felt_ different whenever he looked at her.

They had been away from each other for nearly a decade, and the first time he had been able to speak to her for any length of time she had had that damned potion with her…he didn't know if there had been something hidden inside him which the potion had drawn out, but he knew he didn't want to feel something just because he had been compelled to feel it. And he was even surer he didn't want _her_ to want him just because of a potion.

Of course, it was all a moot point now. He had gone on his mission with Conrart, leaving it up to her, though he had hoped that when he returned, she would come to him—if she had truly felt anything for him, she would have—but she had chosen to ignore it entirely in favour of falling back into their familiar routine. It had hurt, and he had distanced himself from her, concentrating instead on researching the edicts and laws that had been passed by Stoffel in his absence and trying to keep up with the Maou's paperwork while the boy was away.

And now here she was, in his office, just like old times. She opened her eyes then, taking a last deep breath. She made to speak, but he held up a hand, motioning instead toward a nearby chair. He glared at her when she stubbornly remained standing, her eyes narrowed at him in determination.

'Gwendal,' she said shakily, 'you have to do something about Gunter. The whole castle is reeking! Nearly everyone is in Gisela's office, and those who didn't make it are probably bent over their chamber pots even as we speak!'

'Gunter is responsible for this?' he asked, surprised.

'He's making one of his potions,' she replied, coughing a little before covering her nose. 'Apparently it's part of a ritual to look into the future. He plans to monitor the Maou's progress from here.'

Gwendal raised a hand to his forehead, shaking his head. Ever since the new Maou had arrived, Gunter had turned…_strange_, there was no other word for it. He never would have thought Gunter would attach himself so strongly to the half human, but clearly the man was on his way to becoming obsessed with Shibuya Yuuri.

'I'll take care of it,' he promised Anissina, and she sagged against the window sill in relief. He hesitated before turning away, looking back at her to make sure she was feeling better. 'Stay here for a while,' he told her finally, pausing on his way out of the door. 'Atleast until you feel better.'

He closed the door firmly behind him as he went.

--

When Anissina woke, it was evening. She glanced around the room, disoriented by the strange surroundings for a moment, before remembering where she was. She rose from the chair, her back protesting at the cramped position she had occupied for so long. She guessed it had been nearly four hours since she had come to talk to Gwendal, which would make it about eight in the evening. She sighed as she stretched her aching muscles, evidently the fumes had tired her out more than she had realised.

She moved to the desk, picking up and lighting a candlestick she found there, cautiously making her way to the door and opening it. She gave the air an experimental sniff, and broke out in a relieved sigh when she found it free of the fumes. She frowned then, wondering where Gwendal was. If he had been able to talk some sense into Gunter, he should have been back by now, but evidently he had not returned.

Closing the door to his office, she walked purposefully down the hallway to Gunter's suite of rooms. She stopped outside the door, rummaging in her pockets for her handkerchief. Better to be prepared, after all. She raised the handkerchief to her nose and mouth and pushed the door open.

Her eyes widened as she took in the scene before her. Gunter and Gwendal were sitting crosslegged on the floor, a bubbling cauldron between them. She observed thankfully that now the fumes from the potion were moving up into a chimney and not out into the castle. A kitten was in Gwendal's arms, and both men were laughing. No, she shook her head, correcting herself. They weren't laughing, they were giggling. Gwendal was _giggling_.

'Gwendal?' she addressed him hesitantly.

He looked up at her, and she raised her eyebrows at the sunny smile he gave her. 'An'snna!' he slurred happily, setting off another attack of giggles from Gunter, and she shook her head in disbelief. 'Come on, come in, come on join us!' Gunter called, and her lips twisted as she struggled to contain her laughter at the sight of the two of them like this.

'I, ah, am working on something,' she replied in a shaky voice, working to control her twitching lips. 'Maybe later.'

She closed the door on their disappointed exclamations, moving away before giving way to her laughter. As she chuckled to herself, though, the glimmer of a plan began to form in her mind.

This is going to be _delicious_, she thought to herself, already anticipating Gwendal's look of horror. A wicked smile made its way to her lips as she rubbed her hands together, but when she rang for the maids ten mintues later and asked them for a tea tray, she was back to being in perfect control of herself.

She did allow herself a small smirk, though, especially when the wild laughter from the room behind her got a little too loud.

--

Pain.

That was the first thing Gwendal was aware of when he tried to open his eyes. The brief glimpse of his surroundings had assured him he was in his own bedroom rather than at the healer's, so that was a relief.

'Good morning!' a cheery voice called, and he squeezed his eyes tighter shut against the pain the sound caused in his aching head.

He raised a hand to his forehead, rubbing in small circles and hoping the pain would go away. He couldn't recall the last time he had drunk enough alcohol to have a hangover, and he frowned at the very unwelcome reminder of what it felt like.

'I said, good morning!' the voice chirped again, and he slowly pried his eyes open to see Anissina standing before him.

'Grrh,' he responded as he slowly raised himself to a sitting position, and she laughed.

'I'm not surprised you feel that way,' she said, dragging a chair to his bedside and sitting down in it. 'You did have a most…_eventful_ night, after all.'

He raised an eyebrow at her, ignoring his pounding headache. 'What do you mean, 'eventful'?'

'You don't remember any of it? Must be the effect of the fumes from the potion. Oh dear, Gunter is going to be so disappointed.'

'Anissina,' he warned her, 'I'm not in the mood. Just _tell me_ what happened.'

Painfully, he made his way to the water pitcher in the corner of the room and splashed some water on his face. He couldn't really recall anything _embarassing_ from last night, though he knew he had put himself at risk by exposing himself to the fumes for so long. Well, there had been no help for it, not when he had wanted to save that cute little kitten from ending up in another one of Gunter's potions. Things had gotten a little fuzzy the longer he had stayed in there, though, he couldn't even recall getting into his bed last night…

He examined his face in the mirror as he waited for Anissina's answer. His eyes were bloodshot, and he needed to shave and bathe before he went out and faced the rest of the castle. There were still things he needed to see to—

'You and Gunter got a little…how should I put this…_close_…last night.'

There was a world of innuendo in her voice, and he whirled around in horror, remembering too late not to make any sudden movements. He clutched his aching head as he stared at her in shock. '_What_?!'

'Yes, I was a little surprised myself,' Anissina replied, picking a bit of lint off his bedspread unconcernedly. 'Especially since you didn't even care that the maids were in the same room.'

'The _maids_?!' he choked, unable to complete the rest of the sentence.

She nodded blithely while he staggered back against the table behind him, his mind reeling. 'How is that even possible?'

'The fumes from the potion were very potent,' she replied, turning to face him at last. 'Evidently they made you drop all your inhibitions.' Her eyes glittered at the last word, and he could've sworn she looked _angry_ all of a sudden, before she turned away again.

'Well, since you don't seem to remember it, I don't think Gunter will, either. But I doubt the maids will be forgetting anytime soon. Especially since they made _notes_.'

He shuddered, wondering wildly if he could crawl back into bed for the next decade. He looked up when a chair scraped against the floor, and saw that Anissina was standing, now.

'Time for me to be off,' she said, walking briskly to the door. 'I have things to do, people to meet; after all, your mother would be most pleased to hear of this development—'

He leaped to her side, slamming the door shut and clamping a hand to her arm, spinning her around in the process. 'You will tell my mother _nothing_!'

She raised an eyebrow at him, looking pointedly down at his hand. He ignored it, only tightening his grip on her. 'You will tell my mother nothing,' he repeated. 'I honestly don't believe anything of the sort even happened,' he went on, putting the thing that had been nagging at him into words.

'Are you calling me a liar?' Anissina asked, narrowing her eyes at him.

He shook his head, but persisted. 'Did you see me and,' he choked, 'Gunter—with your own eyes?'

She hesitated a moment, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. 'You must have been mistaken. I _knew_ there was no way I would ever have—'

'Why not?'

He blinked. Her eyes were blazing, now, and she was looking at him strangely. 'Why not?' she repeated, stepping closer to him. 'Why wouldn't you be attracted to Gunter?'

She had gone very still, waiting for him to answer, and he thought he saw a gleam of _hope_ in her eyes. Abruptly, he realised what she was trying to ask him, and he stiffened. The light in her eyes died a little as she observed his posture, her expression becoming shuttered and blank. She turned her head away, shaking herself free of him as she fumbled for the door handle, but he slammed the door shut again, just as she had started pulling it open.

He took a deep breath. It was now or never, and hadn't he been waiting for an opportunity like this?

'Because there's someone else.'

Her stunned eyes met his, and he raised his hand to her cheek. 'Anissina,' he began, over the pounding of his heart, 'I—'

They both jumped then, a knock on the door making them step away from each other. Anissina quickly moved to his side, and he called out, 'Enter.'

Gisela appeared in the doorway, eyes widening at his disheveled appearance. 'Are you alright, Excellency?' she asked, looking him over worriedly. 'I was just with my father, he was in some considerable pain.'

'I'm fine,' he told her shortly, but she frowned at him in reply. 'Do you have a headache? You keep squinting against the light—'

'I think this is my cue to leave,' Anissina said, moving out of the open doorway.

'Wait!' he called after involuntarily. They hadn't even—he had just been about to—

She looked back at him over her shoulder and gave him a small smile. 'You know where to find me.'

He nodded dazedly, his head in a whirl as he watched her turn and walk away, even as Gisela directed him to a chair and started passing her hands over his aching head.

* * *

A/N: Title from the proverb 'Revenge is a dish best served cold.'

Many thanks for reading, all comments and concrit are very welcome. :)

Also also, many many thanks to all those who've been reviewing this story. You guys really make my day. Your support means a lot, it's great to know there's someone out there actually reading this! ;)


	11. Courting Danger

**Title:** Courting Danger  
**Rating:** G  
**Prompt being used:** Third person POV  
**Timeline:** Set during Season one.  
**Summary:** Now that he was commited to this course of action, how wondered how in Shinou's name he was to court anyone—least of all _Anissina_.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Gwendal scowled as he flung open the door to his room. The woman was _infuriating_, there was no other word for it.

After that moment in his rooms, when she had come to see him in order to play that very _un_amusing prank on him, and he'd almost confessed all to her—he'd been sure she saw things the same way, that she wanted to take the next step in this thing between them as much as _he_ did…

He gnashed his teeth as he stalked to one end of his room and quickly stripped off his uniform jacket, throwing it onto his chair. This morning, after Gisela had tended to him, he had managed to snatch a free moment from his schedule and had found Anissina in her lab, eager to talk to her, to get everything between them cleared up, and what had she said?

'Oh, I'm busy now, Gwendal—something I'm working on—can we talk again another time?'

He'd gritted his teeth and nodded as he'd walked away. The whole day he'd been impatient and jittery, wondering how she'd react when he was finally able to tell her…but then when he'd taken a plate of food to her lab at lunch time—she always did forget to eat when she was too caught up in another one of her projects—she'd simply given him a grateful smile for the food and turned away again.

He had cornered her after dinner, having made sure that the maids had sent a tray to her room before he went to see her, so that she couldn't dismiss him with a smile again. She had looked up, surprised at his knock, but then her eyes had moved to her drawings again, until he had stalked over to the table and pushed them aside. She had glared up at him, rising from her seat, before falling silent at the look on his face, eyes going shuttered and blank as she had waited for him to speak.

'Anissina,' he'd said after a moment, unsure how to begin, 'can we talk about what happened in the morning?'

She had raised an eyebrow at him, and he had gone on: 'There is _something_ between us, and I—'

'You left,' she had interrupted him then, 'you didn't want to talk about anything _then_, when we almost—' She had trailed off, eyes having gone dark and cold as she had looked at him. 'You can't just come here now and assume that I'm ready to talk when _you_ see fit.'

He had gaped at her. 'But I thought you were not—that you did not—' He had broken off to scowl at her, and she had only raised her other eyebrow haughtily, wearing a flinty expression.

'I will not take a step forward when I am so unsure of the ground under my feet.'

He had understood what she had meant, and he had nodded once, looking steadily back at her when she had glared at him with a challenging glitter in her eyes. _You will run away,_ her glance had said, _you will run from this because it's what you_ do_, and I expect_ nothing _from you_.

It had stung, the fact that she thought so little of him, and he had vowed to himself that he'd prove her wrong. If she wanted to be _courted_, then by Shinou he'd court her!

With that, he had bowed perfectly respectfully as he had left her to her drawings and retired for the night, hopefully to plan his campaign. Unfortunately, he was currently occupied with how angry he was that for _once_ in her life, Anissina von Khrennikov couldn't do things _normally_—

With an oath, he flung back his covers and got into his bed. He could plan tomorrow morning. For now it was best that he have an early night. He had a busy few days ahead of him, after all.

--

The first step to a successful campaign was always the same: observation.

It was essential that he know the enemy—rather, in this case, his quarry—and her habits well.

Well, that was one thing taken care of, he knew what was happening in the castle at all times, and had long known her usual routine of the day.

The next bit was tricky; he knew quite well that Anissina was not like other women, and she would not be swayed by the usual gestures of courtship. Thus his mother was a useless resource—not that he would _ever_ have told her about this, of course, but it narrowed his options considerably. Flowers and wine would have no effect on this woman, but he couldn't really give her a bouquet of wrenches, spanners and the other instruments she normally used for her inventions, could he?

Now that he was commited to this course of action, how wondered how in Shinou's name he was to court anyone—least of all _Anissina_.

He acknowledged to himself, with a huff of frustration, that he was somewhat lacking in this particular area of knowledge.

But then, it had never been an issue before.

He was standing and staring out of the window in thought, chin in hand, when there was a knock on the door and it opened. Gunter entered, looking panicky and flustered.

'Gwendal!' he called, closing the door quickly behind himself. 'You have to hide me in here! Lady Anissina—'

'Another experiment?'

The other man nodded, dropping into a nearby chair and closing his eyes. 'I didn't even wait to confirm it myself, I heard from the maids that she was looking for me and decided to take pre-emptive action.' He shuddered, and looked up at him. 'I suggest you hide, as well. Though I would advise you to be seen leaving your office. We stand a better chance if she has to search for more than one quarry—if she gets one of us,' he shrugged, 'maybe she won't get _both_ of us.'

'I have a better idea,' Gwendal replied, turning away from the window and moving to the door.

'What're you doing?'

'If she has to search the whole castle for us, it will be worse when we are eventually found,' he replied. Now that he had thought about it, he realised that this was a perfect opportunity. If he were to _volunteer_ for an experiment—when it was clearly the last thing he wanted to do—surely Anissina would realise how much she meant to him? He looked at Gunter. 'It will be better for the both of us if I go to her now and just get this experiment over with.'

Gunter blinked, then clutched his hand in both of his. 'Oh, Gwendal, such a noble sacrifice for your friend—' He choked, and Gwendal hurriedly pulled his hand put of his grasp. 'Yes, well, it's nothing,' he said nervously, patting the other man on the shoulder.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled open his door, just in time to see Anissina come walking down the corridor, frowning in thought as she absently pushed doors open and looked inside before hurrying on her way. Clearly, she was searching for Gunter; she called his name occasionally. It occurred to him that she must have been avoiding _him_ after their talk of yesterday. This did not sit well with him, and he frowned as he called out to her: 'Anissina!'

She looked up at him, blinking as he strode to her. 'I hear you're looking for a test subject,' he told her quietly, and her eyes widened. She recovered quickly from her surprise, though, nodding briskly as she turned away.

'Follow me.'

He would have been heartened by any sign that she acknowledged what he had just done, but she didn't even smile at getting her way, as he would have expected. He frowned as he walked to her lab with her, and realised that his plan, while it had seemed a good idea at the time, had unfortunately failed.

Time for a change of tactics, then.

--

She was not the kind of woman to generally receive flowers, but perhaps that was precisely the reason why he needed to give her some.

He realised now that his gesture of yesterday, while a sacrifice on his part, had not made a great deal of impact. Anissina had accepted his offer of a test subject for her experiment almost as her due, he was annoyingly certain she had thought he had helped her for 'science and progress' and not because he wanted to show her he cared about her and whatever was important to her.

Accordingly, he stood now in the garden before the flowers in the wee hours of the morning with only a single candle to light his way. Dawn would soon break, but that was when the maids and cooks first began to stir, and he did not want anyone to see him here. There was enough to fuel the gossip in the castle with the 'Maou's Love Lotto', as Yozak had laughingly informed him the other day. Besides, this was something _private_.

He looked down at the flowers before him, and sighed. His mother had cultivated hundreds of varieties of flowers, and this season seemed to have produced a fine number of them for him to choose from.

But of course it was not easy trying to decide which kind to give to Anissina.

It would be the height of narcissism to give her a bouquet of _Secret Gwendal_, and yet that fast seemed to be becoming his only option. He _couldn't_ give her the fowers named for his brothers, and none of the others were appropriate. Why hadn't his mother cultivated something for such a situation, such a woman, he wondered plaintively. Something like a rose, perfect and beautiful, but surrounded by deadly thorns, he mused whimsically.

In the end, he snipped one single, long stemmed white flower from its stalk. He remembered his mother telling him it represented an encounter, and he hoped he had made a good choice. He turned and walked quickly into the castle, making his way to his desk for parchment and quill. He set to work, scribbling a quick note:

_Anissina,_

You've been in my thoughts often, ever since that night when we almost kissed.

He paused a moment before he wrote the next line, steeling himself to be brutally honest about his feelings, something he had never been accustomed to doing. It helped that he was doing it on paper, though, and not face to face.

_You were right. I did not seek you out afterward because I was afraid you would tell me that encounter had been caused entirely due to my mother's potion, when for me, it had been something I had dearly hoped for, for quite some time. Forgive me._

Gwendal

Rising, he walked quickly and quietly down the halls until he was before the door to Anissina's rooms. He tried the door handle, and it was as he had expected, the outer room was unlocked. He had often warned her of the security threat of leaving it unlocked when she retired for the night, and she had always replied that she locked her bedroom door, instead. He was glad of it now as he slipped inside silently, leaving the note and the flower on a table where she would not miss it, gently closing the door behind him again.

Now, there was nothing to it but to wait.

He passed a few restless hours, tossing and turning in his bed, utterly unable to sleep. Finally fed up, he decided to get a head start on the Maou's paperwork, and rose to go about his morning routine. Some time later, he walked down the halls to his office in the early morning still, sitting down and going to work perfectly normally, as if he wasn't being wound tighter and tighter with anxiety every moment.

That was how Conrart found him three hours later, when he knocked on his door and asked him if he would be joining them for breakfast. Gwendal nodded as he rose, and made fists so that his brother, who stood waiting at the door for him, would not see their nervous twitching.

He walked with Conrart to the breakfast room, wondering if Anissina would be there. She normally joined them when she was not busy on another project, and while she had not finished her current invention, he was fairly sure she would be here today if she had read his note, as he had assumed she would. On the other hand, she would not be here if that was the message she chose to send instead, and panic gripped him momentarily at the thought of her rejection…

Thus he was nervous when he entered to see that she was seated at her usual place—next to him—despite his outward calm demeanour. She looked up when he sat down, favouring him with a soft smile, and relief washed over him.

The maids served him and he took his spork in hand, nearly dropping it with a clatter when he felt Anissina's soft hand clasp his under the table. Her eyes shone as she looked at him, and his own grin was edged with triumph as he squeezed her hand in reply, drawing their joined hands to rest on his knee.

'Gwendal,' his mother said suddenly, looking at him interestedly, 'you're smiling!'

'I'm happy,' he replied simply, and was rewarded with a blinding smile from Anissina.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is welcome. :)

The title comes from the English dub of the anime, the episode where Celi takes the dragon gem (if I remember correctly) from the treasury. Gwendal remarks that questioning Anissina about the theft would be akin to 'courting danger'. ;)


	12. Evasive Manouevres

**Title:** Evasive Manoeuvres  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Prompt being used:** Fear  
**Timeline:** Set during season one.  
**Summary:** There had to be some way he could distract Anissina from her professed plan—without damaging this fragile relationship between them.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Anissina frowned as she darted a surreptitious glance to her right. Gwendal looked _tired_ as he absently ate his breakfast, but then that was to be expected, was it not?

Things had an unfortunate way of just _happening_ around their new Maou; it seemed that they had only just mobilised the troops and rescued the boy from Stoffel's clutches—really, what had Raven been thinking when he'd come up with the plan, she had no idea—when he had decided he had to go to Svalera, and had ended up nearly getting everyone killed.

Gwendal and his brothers had come home safely, though—with the Maou and the Demon Flute—but more surprisingly, they had returned with Grisela Gegenhuber's lover. His _human_ lover. Gwendal had not said a word to her about it, but Anissina knew just how angry he was that Gegenhuber could have done something so hypocritical, after all he had said and done in the name of the Mazoku Pride.

And then, of course, there was the fact that the woman was pregnant.

Gwendal had not relished the subsequent conversation he had had with his aunt and uncle, after all, Grisela had gotten his prejudice against humans from watching his parents. Despite their reservations, however, they had agreed to take the woman—Nicola, if she recalled right—home with them.

Then there were his regular duties, handling the minutiae of running Shin Makoku and doing reams and reams of paperwork for their Maou, who did not really have the head for it. All of which lead to Gwendal looking like he had not slept properly for a week.

Something needed to be done.

Having come to a decision, she nodded briskly to herself as she pushed her chair back. Gwendal and Wolfram both continued eating, but Conrart and the Maou looked at her quizzically as she stood up. She smiled preoccupiedly at them as she stepped away from the table, mind no longer on food. She wandered back to her lab in the same daze, and it was only once she was inside that she went into action.

Three hours later, she happily clapped her hands together as she looked over her latest project. It was not complete by a long shot, but enough of the rudimentary mechanisms were in place that she could now test it out to see if she was moving in the right direction or not.

The best way to get Gwendal out of his current state was to give him something else to think about, a pleasant distraction of some sort.

And what could be more pleasant than to help with the progress of science in Shin Makoku?

Satisfied, she looked over everything one more time before smiling as she made her way out of the door in search of her quarry.

--

'Gwendal!'

He jerked as the door to his office was thrown open, quickly clutching at the papers before him as they fluttered in the resultant breeze. Anissina stood in the doorway, smiling as she regarded him.

'Gwendal, you've been cooped up in here long enough! Time for you to take a break!'

He blinked as she turned to regard the other occupant of the room with a smile. 'You don't mind, do you, Gunter?' The other man shook his head in reply, a bemused look on his face as he abandoned his own work and watched her walk to the large desk that dominated the room.

He stared, still speechless, as she came around to his side to carefully move his papers out of the way, and lean a hand on the back of his chair. 'Gwendal—'

'You're right.'

It was her turn to blink as he stood up suddenly, and he hid a grin, enjoying the surprised look on her face. Clearly, she had been expecting more of an argument before he left his work behind, but she was right, he had been at it for too long. His fingers were inkstained, his hands were getting cramped from all the writing, and a headache had begun to settle itself behind his eyes.

'I'll be back soon, Gunter.'

The other man nodded as he went back to his work, and Gwendal expelled a sigh as he closed the door to his office behind him. Anissina beamed at him as they began to walk away, and his own heart grew lighter the farther away they got from his office and that damned _paperwork_. They had not really had the chance to spend any time alone together since that day they had both decided to move forward in this thing between them, and he found he had missed her.

'What did you have he mind?' he asked her now, a small, grateful smile on his lips. She always seemed to know _just_ what he needed…perhaps they could take a short ride together, it had been a while since they had done that, or perhaps they could—

'I've been working on a new project!'

Her words shocked him into immobility, and he rocked back on his heels, unable to help himself. A skitter of fear ran down his spine as he gaped at her in horror. She had dragged him away from his paperwork to be a _test subject_ again?

She turned around when she noticed he had stopped, and turned a quizzical gaze on him. 'I thought it would be a nice break from your routine,' she said earnestly, and he squirmed uncomfortably. She looked so sincere, he could see it in her eyes, she really thought he would be happy to help her out with her inventions. He sighed, and realised with a sinking heart that he couldn't refuse her. _Especially_ not now that they were…well…

An hour later, he was beginning to regret his decision bitterly. Whatever it was that was between him and Anissina, it certainly couldn't be worth _this_!

'I'm sorry, Gwendal!' she was saying now as she pulled him upright by one arm. 'I must have made a miscalculation, there's no way it should have done that.' She watched with worried eyes as he brushed himself off and ran a hand over his dishevelled hair, and though he felt like assuring her that he was fine, he refrained. As soon as he was standing and more or less alright again, she turned back to her latest project. 'I can't understand where I went wrong,' she said, putting a hand to her chin and rubbing it thoughtfully.

'I think it is time I went back to my work,' Gwendal said stiffly, moving to the door. 'Gunter must be swamped again, he would appreciate the rescue.' She nodded absently, and he clenched his teeth in frustration. Already he was forgotten. Really, he should have known better, when she was in one of _these_ moods, she had no thought for anything else.

He was proved wrong, however, when she swung around to meet his gaze when he pulled open the door, and gave him a determined look. 'I'll be back tomorrow at around the same time. It's not healthy for you to spend so much time hunched over that desk. A little break would do you a world of good.'

His heart stopped at the threat—no, to her it was a _promise_, he reminded himself—and he was only able to nod wordlessly as he exited the lab. As soon as he was out in the corridor, he slumped against the wall, closed his eyes and thought furiously.

He _couldn't_ go through that again, not even the pleasure of spending some time away from his official duties and in Anissina's company was enough to counter the fear of being maimed and permanently injured or even blown up by her inventions.

There had to be some way he could distract Anissina from her professed plan—without damaging this fragile relationship between them.

He nodded to himself as he pushed away from the cool stones at his back and determinedly made his way to his office.

Time for some evasive manouevres.

--

Anissina hummed happily to herself as she walked down the corridors to Gwendal's rooms.

She had spent the better part of the previous day working out the kinks in her latest invention, and she could safely say that it was now going to work perfectly. She didn't really need to test it out again, but it would be good to have her results verified, and of course, she _couldn't_ deprive Gwendal of the opportunity to help her out, it wouldn't be right.

With that, she smiled as she knocked on the door to his office and swung it open. 'Gwendal!' she called cheerfully. She frowned at the sudden look of terror that crossed his face, but then a moment later there was only steely-eyed determination in its place, and she was left thinking she had imagined the fear she had seen in his eyes.

She turned to greet Gunter, and smiled as she saw Gwendal push his chair back and stand up from his desk. She _knew_ it, once he had seen the importance of her work and his role in it, he was ready to help her without her having to chase him down! Her smile grew as he moved out of the open door with her. She should've known, really, she mused; after all, Gwendal was an eminently _sensible_ man, if he saw the use in something, he'd do it.

'Come, Gwendal,' she called merrily as she began leading him to her lab. 'I've worked out the problem we faced yesterday, it was just—'

'Anissina.'

She turned at his voice, which had gone softer now, and noticed that he had stopped in the middle of the corridor. She raised an eyebrow at him, blinking as he closed the gap between them. 'What is it?'

'Anissina, let's go out riding, instead,' he said, still in that same soft voice.

'_Now_?'

'Yes, now.' He moved a little closer to her and her breath caught in her throat at the proximity; the last time they had been this close together was when they had almost kissed. The memory made her heart pound, and she tipped her head up to meet his suddenly intense gaze. 'We've hardly spent any time together, something _always_ seems to come up to keep one of us busy.'

She took a deep breath, trying to control her stuttering heartbeat, even as Gwendal raised his hand to her cheek.

'But—my invention—'

'If we stay here, there's always a chance someone will come by and interrupt us,' he breathed softly in reply. 'Say you'll come with me.'

It was true. They _hadn't_ seen much of each other lately, hadn't she been thinking the same thing only yesterday at breakfast? And her invention could wait a little, Gwendal certainly wasn't going anywhere…

'Alright.'

His eyes shone at her answer, a smile on his lips as he gently stroked her cheekbone. He said nothing, though, only turning away to walk to the stables as she, too, silently kept pace with him.

Soon they were standing before their horses, telling Dacascos that they had no need of an escort, they were only going for a short ride, and to remember to say that they would be back soon enough if anyone were to ask after them.

As they trotted out to the gates of the city, Gwendal shot a glance at her. 'Ready?'

She nodded, checking her mount as he started to prance in anticipation. This had long been a ritual for them, everytime they went riding together, they had a little race, each time trying to see who would best who.

The gates were soon opened, and the countryside stretched out before them, wide and inviting. She nodded at Gwendal, he cracked his reins without warning, and then they were both off.

She gave her horse his head, laughing as the wind whipped her hair back from her face and she easily outstripped Gwendal. He soon caught up to her, though, and she could see the wide smile on his lips as he urged his horse to go faster. She touched her heels to her own horse's side, and they flew forward again, leaving Gwendal behind.

Soon she could see the tree that marked the end of their race, and smiled as she saw that she had won. A moment later she had dismounted, and was rubbing down her horse with grateful hands when she heard the sound of hooves, and turned her head to see Gwendal slowly come to a stop beside her, smiling as he tipped his head up to the sunshine.

Her heart soared at the sight, he seemed young and carefree, almost like the boy she had once known—in the days before Celi had married Dan Hiri and Gwendal had joined the army and learned resentment and anger and responsibility.

He must have felt her gaze on him, because he opened his eyes then, easily swinging down to the ground. He rubbed his horse down as well, giving him an affectionate pat before moving to stand before her in the shade of the tree.

'Thank you,' he said warmly to her, and she blinked in confusion. 'It's been a long time since we've done this,' he explained and she smiled up at him, raising a hand impulsively to rest on his arm.

'Yes, it has, hasn't it? I'm glad you asked me to go riding with you, Gwendal, I've missed this.'

He said nothing in reply, eyes going dark as he stared at her, and she found her own voice was breathy as she said his name inquiringly: 'Gwendal…'

--

It may have started out as a way to distract her from using him as a test subject that afternoon, but now that he had her alone and away from everyone else, looking up at him with that soft smile and those shining eyes…

Slowly, giving her time to draw away if she should wish it, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers.

She gave a soft, small gasp as he drew away and his heart skipped a beat in anticipation. He moved to circle her arms and pull her closer to him, her own hands tangling themselves in his lapels and tugging his uniform jacket a little open. He fitted his lips to hers again, lingering as he learned the shape of her mouth for the first time, delighting in the way she gave a little moan as he deepened the kiss.

And then he was the one left groaning, as she opened her lips beneath his and sucked his tongue into her mouth, her own tongue a slow sweep against his. His hands slid down to her waist, and he tugged her closer, flush with his body, lips moving to press fevered kisses into her hair, to her closed eyes and her cheeks, even as he gasped for breath.

'Gwendal…'

Her voice had gone husky now, and lust shuddered through him at her tone. Her eyes were wide and her lips were swollen already, and a wave of fierce satisfaction shot through him that _he_ was the one who had put that smile of sensual fulfillment on her lips, those stars in her eyes as she looked up at him…

He kissed her again, lightly, and her lips clung to his for a long moment before she drew away to meet his gaze. She reached up a hand to lightly run her thumb over his bottom lip, and her smile turned wistful. 'It's been a while since we've been gone,' she said softly. 'We should be getting back.'

He sighed as he acknowledged to himself that she was right, but did not step away immediately. 'I wish…' he said softly, and she nodded, eyes filled with longing, and not a little wonder. He understood the feeling, he had not anticipated the passion that had sprung to life between them, and now he found it difficult to let her go.

Drawing her close again, he pressed one last kiss to her hair before taking her hand and leading her to their horses. She said nothing as she swung into her saddle, and they both remained silent even as they entered the city, her horse outpacing his again. She glanced at him as she dismounted and led her horse to the stables, and he frowned as his own horse drew to a clattering halt on the cobblestones behind her. She had seemed pensive all the way back, almost as if she was working out something in her mind…

'Anissina—'

She only gave him a small, tight smile over her shoulder as he followed her into the stables, and his heart stopped with anxiety. She had seemed fine just a moment ago, in his arms under the tree…was she having second thoughts about their relationship now?

His thoughts whirled as he drew away from his horse, hurriedly leaving it in the care of a groom who took the reins from him. There were more important things to worry about. He followed her as she began to walk to the castle, still not looking back.

'Anissina—'

She turned to him at his nearly desperate tone, and gave him a level look. 'Perhaps we can go riding again tomorrow?' she asked him, and he nodded fervently, unable to disguise his relief.

'Although…'

He looked up at her, only to see her cock an eyebrow at him. 'Perhaps we'll be too busy testing out my invention tomorrow,' she said archly, pinning him with a glare. He gulped, aware that he had been caught out and there was no way to deny it, and she wagged a finger at him reproachfully. 'This may have worked as a distraction _today_, but don't think you can wriggle out of helping me every time!'

He sighed as he watched her turn and walk into the castle with a jaunty step—evidently pleased at having gotten her way—and it was only once she was inside that he allowed himself a smile.

Perhaps he would be back to being a test subject again from tomorrow, but this afternoon's respite—and the promise of many such afternoons to come, if he had anything to say about it—was certainly worth whatever inconvenience he might have to face.

* * *

A/N: Yay, first kiss! Many thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)


	13. Not Alone

**Title:** Not Alone  
**Rating:** G  
**Prompt being used:** Freestyle  
**Timeline:** Set during season one.  
**Summary:** 'I'm here now,' Anissina said softly, and Gwendal looked up to see her move around his desk to stand beside him. 'I'm with you now, you're not alone.'

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

She walked down the street with quick, brisk steps; she had an image to maintain, after all. People stared after her as she went: the Mazoku noblewoman with an agenda, bent on uplifting the status of women in the Western Business District.

Anissina could feel the wary gazes that followed her wherever she went, the hostility and fear she had inspired when she had first arrived had slowly given way to a cautious respect. It was good to know that she was making a difference, that there were some women who had benefited by her presence here. Of course, it had not been easy, it had taken her a long time to even make the women realise that there was a problem in the way they were treated, but she had persisted, and finally had been able to make some of them see that they were to demand _equality_.

As she walked down the lane to her lodgings, she felt a vague regret. She would have to go soon, but she was reluctant to leave the place of her first tentative success. Well, she had done all she could, it was time for her to move on, she thought firmly as she entered the inn where she had taken lodgings. The innkeeper was busy with the many guests that usually thronged his tavern of a night, but he looked up when she entered.

'My lady,' he called, as she made to climb up the stairs to her room, and she turned to raise an eyebrow at him. 'A message came for you by carrier pigeon,' he said, bending to pluck a small tube from under his counter. She nodded her thanks as he handed it to her, turning away again to make her way to her room. She had received her usual packet of mail from Shin Makoku only last week, telling her the news of the kingdom and the inhabitants of Covenant Castle, so who could be writing to her now?

Of course, things had been growing worrying lately, if the information she had received was anything to go by, all this talk about the Forbidden Boxes…

She pulled the piece of paper out of the tube as she absentmindedly unlocked her door, eyes widening as she glanced at it.

The seal on the envelope threw her a little, it was the von Voltaire coat of arms.

Gwendal.

She frowned as she entered her room and sat down at down at the desk, staring down at the letter.

He had not written to her _once_ in the time she had left Shin Makoku—nearly three months ago now. Well, they had quarrelled over her decision to leave, so she had not really expected him to write—neither had she, of course—which was why it was such a surprise to suddenly have a message from him.

She had been adamant, she remembered, that she would go. She had long heard rumours about the way women were treated in this place, the district's unsavoury reputation had spread far and wide. And little Greta's stories about her home city had only spurred her on.

'But why do _you_ have to go?' Gwendal had said to her when she'd told him of her decision.

They had met for another rendezvous, stealing away from the castle and their daily routine to go for another ride, and they had been sitting under what they had both come to think of as 'their' tree, when he had turned to her with a scowl.

'If we all ignore the problem, it will never get solved,' she had blazed back at him, angry that he stubbornly refused to see the point. 'I have to start somewhere; I will wait no longer for men to learn to treat women in the right way!'

'Do you really think they will listen to you?' Gwendal had scoffed. 'A Mazoku noblewoman? The humans are too scared of us, you will never be able to do anything for the women there.' He had stopped then, and had fixed her with a hard look. 'Besides, you know what Gegenhuber has told us, the humans are preparing to strike. It is not safe.'

'You think I can't take care of myself?' she had snapped, blood boiling at his calm dismissal of her abilities. 'That I can't do what I've set my mind to?'

'I do not doubt your abilities,' he had replied, glaring back at her, almost as if he had read her mind. 'But I doubt the _humans'_ willingness, their ability to accept anything—even wisdom—from Mazoku. It is a fool's errand, and you will regret it!'

'We shall see about that,' she had cried, and his lips had thinned as he had shaken his head angrily, but he had not replied as she had sprung up from her seat to storm away to her horse and back to the castle.

He had not followed her then, and he had not come to see her off as she had left on her voyage.

She had been _furious_ all these days, to think that just when things had been going so well, he had behaved like an arrogant, pompous ass, instead of being supportive and encouraging, like he _should_ have—

And now, finally, he had written to her.

He had probably realised at last that he was wrong, and it had taken him this long to work up the nerve to apologise. She huffed a little as she picked up the letter and looked at the seal again.

With quick, impatient movements, she broke it open and pulled out the piece of paper inside. It was a short missive, only five words:

_Anissina, _

Come home at once.

Please.

Gwendal

She frowned down at the letter. It was no apology, evidently she had been mistaken. It would have sparked her anger again, but the letter itself was…odd. The words seemed strange on the paper, almost as if Gwendal's hand had been shaking as he'd written them.

And then there was the word 'please'…Gwendal was not accustomed to _asking_, he was a man used to command…

Anissina nodded, then pushed the piece of paper back into its envelope. Whatever else had happened between them, he would not have asked her to return unless it were important, she was sure of it.

She had to go.

--

Already he regretted sending that damned message to her.

It had been a thing of impulse, the letter had been written and sent before second thoughts had prevailed, and now as he looked out of the window into the night—he could almost make out through the gloom the flags that flew at half mast from the ramparts below him—he wondered if she would come.

He had given her no reason, had told her of no emergency, he had only asked that she return at once, abandoning her plan—already three months into its launch—and come home only because he had demanded it of her.

There was no doubt. Of course she wouldn't come.

It had only been a momentary longing for her touch, for her arms around him, a brief respite from the terrible, dull pain that came from watching his mother cry and Wolfram scream and throw things out of windows in his rage, because Conrart was _gone_, gone forever—

He choked off the thought, turning away from the window to seat himself behind his desk again. There was still work to be done, after all, Gunter was struck down by the von Wincott poison and everything had fallen to him now. They had made Gunter as comfortable as they could in his rooms, but no one had any way of knowing how long he would be in a coma. Which was another reason why Anissina needed to return, she was sure to have some invention that could help…

All of the Mazoku living on or near human territory had to be warned, after such a daring attack on their Maou it was unsafe for them to continue as they were—he would have to ask Densham to send Anissina a letter telling her about it, perhaps _then_ she would return—then there were funeral arrangements to be made—his mother was in no condition for it—and of course the pressing matter of what was to be done with the Key.

Lady Ulrike had told them only last night, after she had looked up the history of the Weller family in the Temple records, and even now it was difficult to imagine. That they had had a Key with them, among them, all this time, and they had never known…

Above all, though, he hated the small part of himself that wondered, even at such a time, if it would have been easier to locate the Boxes if they could have used the Key in some manner.

It was easier to think of it as the Key, easier not to think of the fact that the only thing they had left of Conrart was the arm; his body had been lost in the fire and there would be nothing for his family to grieve over.

The Lion of Lutenberg, laid down at last. Yozak had not taken the news well.

He was off in the human lands somewhere now; after a careful inspection of the damage caused by the fire they had been able to work out that it had not been caused by maryokou, which had of course left only one possible option.

There was a timid knock on his door, and he looked up to see Greta enter. She stood there at the door for a moment, her lip trembling, before a sob burst from her and she ran to him. He lifted her up into his lap, and she looked up at him with brimming eyes.

'Gwendal, Wolfram's crying in his sleep again.'

He passed a hand over her head, and she leaned her face into his shirt, snuggling closer to him. He had told his brother not to be like him, it was true, and it was a good thing that he felt capable of letting out his emotions, and yet…

He looked up again when the door was pushed open without even a knock, but his initial alarm faded when he saw Anissina in the doorway.

'You came,' he said blankly, and she strode to him, her eyes worried and anxious.

'Anissina?' Greta cried, stirring in his arms. 'I'm so glad you've returned!'

'Hello, Greta,' she replied, absentmindedly laying a hand on the child's head before turning to him. 'Gwendal, what's going on?' she asked anxiously. 'I've been hearing all sorts of rumours on the way back, about an attack on the Maou—and why are the flags at half-mast? _What has been happening?_'

'Yuuri was attacked and then he went back to his world,' Greta piped up before he could reply, sitting up in his arms and looking up at her. 'And Conrart—Conrart is _dead_!'

Anissina staggered back at the news, even as Greta began crying again. She looked at him in shock, and he nodded. Her lips thinned as she pulled herself together, and she moved forward to take the crying child out of his arms. 'Come with me, Greta,' she said softly, tucking the girl into her body. She turned away from him and moved out of the door, still talking quietly to the child.

Gwendal got up after that to go and stand at the window again, unable to sit still any longer. He had not really expected her to come, but Anissina's sudden arrival meant that he wasn't alone in this, and that was a wonderful feeling. There was so much to be done, and now that there was someone to help, perhaps it wouldn't be so difficult to get through it all.

He turned to his desk again, going through the many sheets of paper that lay scattered about, sorting through them to put them in the order they were to be tackled in, and it was then that Anissina returned.

'I put Greta to bed again,' she said softly as she entered and stood awkwardly on the other side of his desk. 'I woke up Gisela and asked her to give both Wolfram and Greta something to help them sleep.'

He nodded, still reading the words before him. 'That's a good idea, thank you.'

'Gwendal…'

He looked up when she stilled his hand. Her eyes were dark and haunted. 'Gwendal, how…' She trailed off, but he understood.

'He was a Key to one of the Forbidden Boxes,' he said, and she gasped. 'None of us knew, but one of the human countries found out somehow. We thought it was an attack on the Maou at first, because he had been called into our world by someone else, but now we think they may have been after the Key all along.'

'But how could they have known?' Anissina shook her head, her face white and shocked. 'How could anyone have known more about Conrart than his own _family_?'

'Mother suspects that it was Big Simaron,' he replied, resting both hands on his desk and letting his head hang forward wearily. 'Dan Hiri Weller was originally from that country, if you recall.'

'And what happened to Gunter? Greta was mumbling something about him, but she wasn't very clear.'

'He was struck by an arrow tipped with the von Wincott poison, and he put himself into a coma to escape its effects. Gisela doesn't know when he will wake up, or even if he ever will—'

He raised a hand to pass it over his forehead, and he felt her touch the other one on the desk.

'I'm here now,' she said softly, and he looked up to see her move around his desk to stand beside him. 'I'm with you now, you're not alone.'

He gripped her hand tightly, unable to speak for the thickness of his throat. She tugged him away from his desk by their joined hands, and he followed her, frowning as she made to draw him out of the room.

'All that work that we need to do will still be there in the morning,' she said chidingly, stopping only to let him lock the door, before leading him down the corridors to his bedchambers. 'It'll do no good if you fall down from exhaustion.'

He said nothing because it was easier not to argue, even if he privately felt that there was no time for a rest. Soon they were in front of his doors, and she stood waiting as he fumbled for his key and unlocked them. She didn't hesitate as she pulled him into the room, locking the doors behind him again.

It was strange to see her standing there in his bedchambers, he had often imagined her here, but never in such circumstances. She looked around curiously for a moment before going to his bed and moving the pile of half finished knitting to his desk. He stared at her when she looked at him expectantly, but when she beckoned him silently, he moved to her.

She tugged him down to the bed with her, and his first thought was: it shouldn't be like _this_, before he realised that there was nothing sexual in her actions. She turned on her side, pulling his arm over her waist, tucking their still joined hands under her chin.

'I can't believe Conrart's really gone,' she said after a moment, and he stiffened.

'Anissina,' he said warningly, 'Don't.'

'I can still remember him from when he was just a kid,' she went on, her voice thickening with tears. 'He really was a squally little brat, wasn't he?'

'Anissina,' he said again, then stopped, because there was a lump in his throat, his eyes were stinging and his chest was hurting—

'It's alright, Gwendal,' she said, turning suddenly to take him in her arms as the first few tears squeezed themselves out from under his tightly shut eyelids. 'It's alright, I'm here. I'm here.'

He cried then, and her own tears wet his hair as she clutched him tightly and they both let out their grief.

* * *

A/N: So apparently I like torturing characters when I am unwell. shrugs

Anyway, thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)

And with the next chapter, this fic will finally earn its 'M' rating. ;)


	14. So This is Love

**Title:** So This is Love  
**Rating:** R for sex  
**Prompt being used:** Fanon backstory  
**Timeline:** Set during season two, episode 43.  
**Summary:** From Episode 43: _Gunter: 'It seems Gwendal was caught by Anissina all day yesterday.'_  
So if _Gunter_ ended up testing out 'Make-Friends-With-Everyone-Kun', exactly what was Gwendal doing in Anissina's lab all day?

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

_His open mouth dropped to her neck and she moved restlessly against him, hands tightening on his shoulders. He had pulled her hair out of its usual style, and the strands tangled in his fingers as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him._

_He licked a path up her neck, and she trembled, a gasp on her lips. He felt like he couldn't get enough of her, he wanted to taste every inch of her, to put his mouth all over her luscious body…_

_He moved to her ear lobe, nipping at the delicate flesh, and he delighted in her answering shudder._

_She arched her back, and he shivered when she pressed her hips into his, her own hands moving to his jacket and pulling it open, hot fingers making his skin burn as she caressed him. With a sigh, she leaned back against the arm encircling her waist. Her eyes were heavy lidded as she gazed up at him with a satisfied smile, panting through her already swollen lips._

_Slowly, he pushed her back against the cool stone wall behind them, and his hand moved to her collar, tracing the cloth with his fingers as he leaned forward to whisper in her ear._

_'May I?'_

Gwendal jumped as the door to his office opened, startled out of his memories by Gunter's entrance. He nodded at the other man and turned back to his work, frowning at himself. Really, he needed to focus. There was much to be done; daydreaming was simply unacceptable.

Besides, it had not been _that_ long since he had last spent time with Anissina. She usually breakfasted with them, but only recently she'd said she was working on something new, so of course she had been busy since. He still met her now and then, though, passing her in the halls on her way to and from her laboratory. Which was how he had been able to pull her into a rarely used corridor off the royal library two weeks ago, and they had been able to steal a brief but _very_ enjoyable rendezvous from their schedules.

His body was still tingling with those very memories.

But it _had_ been two weeks since then.

Of course, he was busy himself, too, what with Conrart's return to Shin Makoku, his subsequent pardon by the Shinou, and the increased urgency in the search for the rest of the Forbidden Boxes. Then there were the normal, day to day matters of the kingdom that fell to him. And also the arrangements for the annual Newborns' Ceremony, coming up in a week's time.

The door opened again, and he couldn't help himself, he looked up, wondering if maybe this time it was _her_—but it was only his mother.

He raised an eyebrow, and she swept over to the chair in front of his desk, seating herself gracefully. 'Gwennie,' she said gaily, 'reach for a sheet of paper and start making notes. I have very _specific_ instructions for my first grandchild's Newborns' Ceremony.'

He saw Gunter duck his head to hide his smile, and rolled his eyes as he did as he was told. It was easier to go along with his mother sometimes rather than argue with her. Atleast he'd get back to work sooner.

He wrote absentmindedly as she spoke of her grand arrangements forthe ceremony, his mind drifting to Anissina again. What present would she give Greta on this ocassion? Perhaps—

He broke off his train of thought when his mother finished speaking, putting his seal on the sheet of paper before him with a sigh.

'Oooh, Gwendal, darling, don't tell me my prayers have finally been answered and you _have_ fallen in love!'

He blinked, startled by his mother's statement, and looked up to see her grinning at him. Gunter stared at her from his own desk on the other side of the room, even as she leaned back in her chair, crossing her legs and smiling delightedly.

'What nonsense. Not that it's any of your business, but I am not in love.'

'Come now, Gwendal, I've noticed it—you're distracted all the while, and you keep sighing to yourself. Only people in love do that!' his mother refuted him, looking far too pleased with herself for his liking. He said nothing, and she pouted a little. 'Well, I can see you're shy, so I won't ask you who the lucky person is,' she trilled, winking at him, and he resolutely turned back to his work.

'I refuse to deal with you when you're like this.'

She giggled—_giggled_!—as she got up, pausing just before the door. Despite himself, he looked at her. She smiled at him then, a soft, happy smile, the one he remembered from his childhood. 'I'm happy for you, Gwendal,' she said softly, and then she was gone.

'I am _not_ in love.'

'I never thought you were,' Gunter assured him, and Gwendal turned sheepishly. He had almost forgotten the man was even in the same room.

He pressed his lips together as he turned back to his work, pulling Franchire's new trade agreement from the stack to his right. Even as he read it, his mind spun with these new thoughts his mother had planted in his head.

_Love_?

Nonsense. Whatever this thing was between Anissina and himself, it wasn't love. He had _seen_ love; his mother had often fallen in and out of it, after all. When she had been in love, she had forgotten everything and everyone else, leaving all her responsibilities to Stoffel and not behaving as a Maou was expected to behave.

Nothing of the sort had happened to him. Here he was, in the office, going about his routine perfectly normally, seeing to all his duties and responsibilities as he always did.

Ergo, he was not in love.

But then, his mother was right, he _had_ been distracted lately…

Only sexual frustration. It had been _months_ since that first kiss under their tree, and yet events continually conspired to keep them from progressing much further. His body _burned_ for Anissina, it was only natural that he find it a little difficult to concentrate on work.

Giving a satisfied nod to himself, he put his seal on the agreement.

--

'Aw, that's too bad.'

Anissina paused outside the door to the servants' quarters, holding her lunch tray in her hand. Doria had brought it to the lab, and she had decided to stretch her legs with a trip to return the tray and thank the other woman at the same time.

'And I had a small sum on him, too!'

The voices coming from behind the slightly ajar door, however, held her immobile. She had expected to hear whispers of palace gossip, something to giggle over with the maids, but this had her curiosity piqued. What could they be speaking of?

'But Eva overheard Lord von Voltaire telling _Lady Celi_ he's in love, so it must be true. I guess we can cross him off the list of potential candidates for the Maou's Love Lotto…unless he's in love with the _Maou_?'

She staggered back, even as giggles and squeals erupted inside, and it was only with an effort that she did not let the tray drop from her fingers. She must have made some involuntary sound, however, because there was a sudden silence inside the room. Clearing her face of the shock she still felt, she put on a pleasant smile and opened the door.

The maids inside were unfamiliar to her, so she did not stay to talk, she only thanked them with a small smile, and beat a hasty retreat. It was when she was back in her lab again and the door closed behind her that she swallowed hard as she sank into her seat.

Gwendal…was in love with her.

Of course, the maids were notorious for spreading rumours, half of what they said was never true. So it was likely that this was just another bit of gossip that would die down in a month.

But if it _was_ true…

She closed her eyes, and bit her lip. She had hoped to put it off as long as she could, this moment when they had to label what was between them.

Now, there was a chance that Gwendal wanted _more_ from her, and she wasn't sure she could give it to him. She had never seen a relationship between a man and a woman in love where they could be truly _equal_, even the ones labelled 'happily married'. Lady Celi never seemed able to keep any of her men, her higher status as Maou always drove them away in the end.

Her own mother had given up everything, had sacrificed everything that made her unique—all for love of the man she had married. She had been horrified when her mother had told her of it, how it had been little things at first—giving up wearing anything but dresses and skirts because her husband thought it 'unladylike', forgoing her say in the way the province was run because it 'was not a woman's place to question her lord's decisions'—until her mother had not been able to go back to who she had once been.

'The things a man finds desirable in a lover are the very things he does not want in a _wife_,' her mother had said to her bitterly. 'Everything changes when you marry a man.'

Her mother was long gone, but her words remained.

Granted, there had been no talk of marriage between herself and Gwendal, but if he had admitted to being in love with her to Lady Celi…

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

But then, Gwendal was not like her father. He had never asked to her change anything, be anything different than she was—in fact, the only time he had ever said something similar to her had been when he had asked her to spend a little more time on the _planning_ stage of her inventions before moving to the testing stage—which was quite understandable, really.

Her heart had stopped pounding now, and her breath was coming a little easier. She repeated it to herself with another deep breath: _Gwendal was not like her father_.

And she was not like her mother.

She would not let the ghosts of her past stop her from grasping her future, whatever it might be.

An hour later, she was able to smile to herself at the thought that he might love her.

--

She had her breakthrough the day before the Newborns' Ceremony.

She had spent a long time puzzling over her latest invention; it had nearly driven her _mad_ that she could visualise it, could know how it would look once it was finished, but that she could not figure out how to translate it to reality.

It had finally come to her the previous night, and she had spent her time sketching and working feverishly so that it would be ready by morning.

Now, she clapped her hands together excitedly as she admired it. All she needed now was her favourite test subject.

With a smile, Anissina left her lab.

--

He was in the courtyard, inspecting his soldiers when she found him.

'Gwendal!'

His heart leapt at the sound of her voice, but he recognised the glint in her eye. All he could hope for at this point was that it would be over _quickly_, whatever it was. Still, he would not be himself if he did not protest a little, so he put on his most fierce scowl as she drew closer to him.

'No.'

'But—! Gwendal, you don't even know what it is I want!'

'You have some new hare-brained invention you want me to test out, and I cannot. The Newborns' Ceremony is tomorrow, Anissina, I have no _time_ for anything else!' He paused. 'And I'm in the middle of an inspection.'

'Oh, come on, Gwendal, I'm sure your soldiers are in fine shape,' she said, smiling at the soldiers before them. 'You train them well.' Many of the men had straightened even further at the sight of her, and at her smile, some of the younger ones flushed in pleasure.

He frowned at them, and they immediately turned their eyes to the front again. He had never thought of himself as a jealous man, but he had to admit he didn't like seeing his men's reaction to Anissina. 'Check the perimeter of the castle,' he snapped at them. 'Make a note of every entrance and exit. Security will be tight tomorrow, but I do not want anyone slipping into the castle under the pretext of attending the Ceremony.'

With a huff of impatience, he turned away from them. 'Come on,' he said to Anissina, and she walked at his side as she led him to her lab, talking about her latest idea. It certainly sounded interesting, and the idea of being surrounded by baby animals—bearbees, sandbears, squirrels, bunny rabbits—sounded very tempting indeed. He could brave a little pain to see if it worked, he decided.

She had closed the door behind them now, and he blinked in the sudden darkness.

'Anissina, why haven't you drawn your curtains?'

'Oh—I'm making some photosensitive potions.'

Her voice sounded strange, but he thought nothing of it as he fumbled his way to the table on one side of the room and picked up the candelabrum there. He groped for a flint, and soon the candles were lit and he could see. He set the candelabrum on the table, and turned to her.

She advanced on him with a smile, holding aloft a metal helmet. He gulped, but knew from experience that it would be easier if he got it over with himself, instead of having her force him into it. He had lost a lot of hair that way. She beamed at his quiscent attitude, pulling him into a comfortable chair and fitting the helmet carefully onto his head.

'And now I just—'

'Think of the creature you want to attract and use all your maryokou,' she said, clasping her hands together excitedly and nodding at him to start. He shut his eyes as she pulled a nearby lever, and there was a loud ZAP—

He ripped the helmet off his head, not caring for his hair at that moment. He patted his head frantically, even as he heard the helmet crash against something and break it as it left his hand. Anissina gasped, moving to the noise, but she seemed to think better of it at the last minute, and turned to him.

'Gwendal!' she cried angrily. 'Why did you do that?'

'Because it felt like my brain was being _fried_!' he said furiously, advancing on her. She stood her ground, though, and he could feel his eye beginning to twitch. 'Do you honestly spend such little time planning these things out?' he thundered at her, wincing as he pulled his hair out of its tie and massaged his tingling scalp.

'Don't be such a baby about it,' she said dismissively. 'It was only a loose connection in one of the circuits, obviously.'

Speechless with anger, he moved quickly to the fallen helmet, ignoring her cry and her attempt to block him. 'You try it out this time, and see how _you_ like—'

He broke off as he bent to pick up the helmet, staring at the puddle of pink liquid and broken glassware that surrounded it. A faint smell of apples hit his nose, and he blinked. He remembered that scent, recognised the potion—from the most embarassing conversation he had _ever_ had with his mother, when she had told him in detail how 'two people who loved each other very much' _expressed_ that love—and then she had handed him a bottle of that very liquid and told him what it was meant to do.

It was a contraceptive potion.

He turned to Anissina, who had gone red, and was avoiding his eyes. If she had this with her…if she had been brewing it for _herself_—because he knew her, she preferred to keep such things private, she wouldn't have gone to Gisela about it—then that meant she had been thinking of sex. With him.

'Anissina, I—'

He stopped, unsure of what to say. The knowledge that she wanted him as much as he wanted her was pounding through him now, his head was swimming—

She visibly took a deep breath before raising her eyes to his. 'I've already taken a dose,' she said softly, and he felt his heart skip a beat at what she was saying to him with those words.

She took a step forward, he surged toward her, and a moment later they were in each other's arms.

The first kiss was all lips and tongue and teeth, but the second was slower; her mouth clung to his, breaking away and returning again and again, almost as if she was stoking the fire in him. He drew away from her with an irritated grunt when his hair got in the way again, and she panted as she ran her fingers down a long strand until they rested on his chest.

She flicked the other locks of hair away from his face, raising her eyes to his. Her smile was slow but utterly tempting, and his body quickened at the awakening sensuality in her gaze. Silently, she pushed him back against the table behind him, raising her hands to his collar and pulling the first button loose. Her hands made quick work of the rest of them, and soon his jacket gaped open over his chest. Pulling his belt loose, he shrugged it off and pulled her closer to him with an arm around her waist, fingering the end of her ponytail, which had gotten tangled between his fingers.

'Fair's fair,' he murmured, and she looked at him quizzically for a moment before his other hand tugged the hair tie out of place. She let out a little cry of pain, slapping his hand away, undoing her hair herself, and when she glared at him, he couldn't help the laughter that bubbled up and out of his mouth. She laughed, too, and he felt some of the tension of the moment leave him.

'You should laugh more often,' she told him seriously, and he rolled his eyes as he pulled her close again.

'Anissina,' he said, 'while any other time I would debate that with you, right now I'm afraid my attention is entirely _elsewhere_.'

She grinned delightedly as she pulled his head down for another kiss.

--

She had worked her hands into his shirt by now, pulling the buttons loose, and he broke away with a gasp when her hands found his flesh. She smiled at the reaction, enjoying the feel of his muscles tightening under her touch. A moment later he had pushed his shirt open, but he abandoned it halfway so that it hung from his shoulders as he reached impatiently for her again.

As his mouth met hers, she pushed closer to him, meshing their bodies together, thigh to thigh, chest to chest. She could feel him against her hip now, and fire burned low in her stomach, making her shift against him restlessly. He groaned at the movement, and when he broke away to look at her, his eyes were glittering.

'Take this off, please,' he grunted, pulling at her collar. She obliged, raising shaky fingers to the buttons and pulling them free. He had never seen her like this before, they had always been interrupted before things could have gone this far, even that one interlude two weeks ago—when she had thought that finally they could do _more_—had been cut short unexpectedly.

She couldn't look at him now, her eyes stayed on her fingers as they unbuttoned and pulled the material aside, her heart pounding with more nervousness than anticipation and desire. This wasn't her first time, but it was her first time with _him_.

A shiver ran up her spine as she shrugged her blouse off, and she heard him draw in a sharp breath.

He reached for her, his fingers splaying themselves on her waist. He ran his thumb gently over her skin, and she shuddered. He moved to put his mouth on her neck, fingers moving up until they found a breast. She tore her mouth away from his on a gasp, and he smirked, looking very satisfied with himself.

Well, that would never do.

He hissed in a breath when her fingers slipped under the waistband of his trousers, her other hand tangling in his hair and pulling him down to her. He shivered against her when her fingers found him, and then it was her turn to smile.

She had just wrapped her fingers around him when his hips jerked, and he pushed himself away from her, eyes wild.

'Anissina,' he ground out, a question in his eyes, and she nodded.

He caught her by the shoulders and reversed their positions, so that she could hoist herself onto her workspace. A pipette rolled to the floor with the movement and broke, making her wince, but then his hands were moving up her legs, pushing her skirt up. Her hands dropped to his waist, pulling buttons free and sliding his trousers down his hips.

'Oh, _Gwendal_,' she said, eyebrows raising as she saw him for the first time, and she looked up in time to see him blush. She laughed delightedly as she pulled him to her and slid her fingers under the navy blue material that was now doing a poor job of covering him. He shuddered under her slow and thorough exploration, and a moment later he had stepped away from her.

'This has gone on long enough,' he gritted out, and then his fingers were between her legs, pulling her undergarments down her legs. Her mouth fell open on a gasp when he slid one finger inside her, the sound adding to his own low growl. Her back arched uncontrollably, eyes slipping shut as she moaned his name.

Her mind was going…he had added another finger now…there was something she had to tell him before they did this, though, something _important_…

'Gwendal,' she gasped, managing to meet his eyes somehow, 'I love you.'

He went still, staring down at her with wide eyes, even as she panted for breath. A long moment passed, and then: 'We've always loved each other, haven't we?' he said softly, and she shook her head.

'No,' she said, 'no. This is different. I'm in love with you, Gwendal.'

'Anissina,' he said quietly, 'I—'

He broke off with a grunt of frustration, but she shook her head again. He may not have been able to say the words yet, but she had seen the truth of it in his eyes.

'I know,' she said gently, pulling him down for a kiss and watching as his eyes became clear again.

In the middle of the kiss, she snapped her hips forward, taking him completely into herself. He tore his mouth away from hers, dropping his face to her neck, and she fell back against his encircling arm with a gasp. He lowered her gently to the countertop, meeting her eyes as he put one hand on her hip and tangled his fingers in her hair, bracing the other above her head.

'Gwendal,' she commanded shakily, and he nodded.

--

He couldn't wait any longer.

With a small groan he pulled out of her all the way and made her gasp before surging back into her. She made a high pitched sort of sound and arched off the counter, her fingernails digging into his shoulders and her legs going round his waist. He knew he would have some bruises later, but right now he couldn't care.

He started moving then, his rhythm guided by her moans. '_Faster_,' she breathed, meeting his pace, and a few quick strokes later, he was almost undone. He untangled his hand from her hair, and reached between their bodies, fingers moving through the slick folds. He wanted to bring her with him when he fell.

He heard his name spill from her lips—and then he was coming in a blaze of colour and light, her nails digging into his back like little spikes of heat.

When he came back to himself, they were in a sweaty tangle of arms and legs. They were both panting, and he felt her smile against his neck as her fingers swept over his sweaty back.

'Anissina,' he said softly, 'I may not be able to say the words, but I hope my actions will always show you how much I care.'

Her smile widened against his skin, and she pushed against his shoulders, indicating that he straighten up and look into her eyes.

'If that's the case, then you'll be happy to test out 'Make-Friends-With-Everyone-Kun' once I've worked out the kinks in it, won't you?'

His eyes widened in horror, and then narrowed when she started laughing. 'Oh, don't _worry_, Gwendal,' she cried, still giggling. 'I'll get Gunter to test it out. After all, I wouldn't want anything to happen to this very fine body of yours!'

The last sentence was punctuated with a saucy slap to his backside, and he gaped as she rolled out from under him and quickly divested herself of her skirt. She grinned over her shoulder at him as she sauntered to her bedroom, wearing nothing but her boots, and he felt lust sizzle through him.

'Well,' he heard her voice float out to him, and then she poked her head out of the doorway. 'Are you coming, or not?'

Shaking his head even as he smiled, he pulled his trousers up and followed her.

* * *

A/N: And this story finally earns its 'M' rating. And yayz, they're finally together! And it only took, what, fourteen chapters to get here? :P

Many thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is welcome. :)


	15. Ground Rules

**Title:** Ground Rules  
**Rating:** R for sex  
**Any Warnings:** Rather long, pointless smut!fic.  
**Prompt being used:** Provided Title  
**Timeline:** Set during season two.  
**Summary:** There are some rules to every relationship.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

-Won the Mod's choice for the round at the community. :)

* * *

_One: She _hated_ being taken by surprise._

He had learned that the hard way when he had crept up behind her in her lab one day, and laid a hand on her shoulder. She had given him no warning, her maryokou had suddenly erupted from her skin, and he had had to put up a barrier lightning quick.

'Anissina!' he'd grunted, arm still tingling in pain. 'It's me!'

She had told him then, that she disliked surprises. He had rolled his eyes and left the room in a huff, but he had remembered it.

He had tried it out later, one day when he had had her favourite dessert prepared for her, and he'd told her he had a surprise for her under the covered dish before them.

The catch was that she could have it only if she would guess what it was.

She had refused to play his litle game, and when he had not obliged and lifted the lid, she had fidgeted, she had tapped her foot, and in the end she had pushed his restraining arm away to lift it herself.

She really did hate surprises, but only because she hated not being in control.

Now _that_ was something he would remember—and have some fun with.

--

'Come in!'

She didn't look up as the door opened, that particular knock was only made by Gwendal, anyway. 'Hello,' she said distractedly, flashing him a quick smile and turning back to her drawings. 'I'm sorry I didn't come down to dinner today, it's just this new thing I've been working on—'

He huffed a laugh, and then there was a plate before her. 'I guessed as much,' he said wryly. 'I had the kitchen staff prepare you something.'

'Thank you,' she said, grasping his hand in gratitude as she took it from him and set it on the table. 'I wanted to come down, but I knew I would have this one if I spent just an hour at the drawing table…'

She trailed off to take a bite of her dinner, chewing preoccupiedly as she looked over her designs again. The table shook a little, and she looked up to see that Gwendal had leaned a hip against it. 'Hey, you'll spill that water on my drawings,' she cried, taking another bite as she tried to push him away with her other hand.

'Drink it, then,' he said, handing her the glass.

She took a large gulp, setting it on a side table close by. He said nothing, staring meaningfully at the plate and the glass, and she rolled her eyes as she took another bite of her dinner and washed it down with the rest of the water. Setting the empty glass pointedly on the side table, she made fast work of the food, holding up the empty plate to him when she was done.

'Happy now?'

He nodded, taking the plate from her and placing it next to the glass. She made to stand up to walk him to the door, but fell back in her seat when the ground tilted under her feet. Her head was spinning, she felt lightheaded…

'Gwendal—'

When she opened her eyes again, the room was dark. It took her a moment to realise that she was in her bed, and that she was undressed.

'Gwendal?' she rasped out, and there was a quick movement to her right.

She tried to dart away instinctively, but her hand was grabbed and bound. She lashed out with her other hand and her feet, and there was a grunt of pain as one of them connected. She thrashed about, but her assailant had moved to the other side of the bed now, and soon her other hand was bound.

She'd been drugged, she realised with sick shock. That would explain how she'd lost consciousness like that. But where was Gwendal? They would had to have gotten past him in order to sneak into her room…

'Let me go!' she cried, straining at her restraints. 'You bastard, what have you done with Gwendal?'

A flint was struck somewhere, and a candle flared to life. She blinked in amazement to see Gwendal standing before her, dressed only in his trousers and holding the candle aloft as he breathed hard, his hair falling out of its usual sleek style. A bruise was developing on his cheekbone, and his eyes glittered strangely.

'Gwendal?' she gasped. 'What—are you _doing_? Let me out of these at once!'

'Surprise,' he smirked, stepping closer to let the candlelight shine down on her. She gaped up at him, shaking her head in amazement. 'Have you taken leave of your senses?' she asked finally, glaring at him. 'Why have you done this?'

He said nothing, moving forward with that same smirk on his face. He sat down on the bed next to her, and she tried to squirm away from him, but she couldn't go far with the restraints. He laid a hand on her cheek, and she angrily shook it away. 'Gwendal, if you don't let me out of here _right now_, I swear by Shinou I'll—'

'I won't hurt you,' he interrupted her softly, meeting her eyes. 'Trust me, Anissina.'

He seemed sincere enough, but that didn't mean she was going to make it _easy_. He hadn't asked her about this—talked to her about it even once—so she held herself rigid when he leaned down to kiss her. He took his time with it, though, and after a while, she opened her mouth to his gentle coaxing. His tongue slid inside, a slow sweep against her own, and she made a small, muffled sound of pleasure.

He sat up, and she raised her hands to pull him back down to her, forgetting the restraints that held her still. 'Gwendal,' she growled, and he _smiled_.

She snapped her mouth shut as she suddenly understood what he was trying to do. She'd be _damned_ if she let him see how he'd affected her. His smile widened at her gesture, hand drifting down to let his thumb run over a hardened nipple. Her eyes slipped shut at the contact, her back arching.

'That must be uncomfortable,' he said in a low voice, and then he had leaned forward to pull her hair loose of its tie. He ran the strands through his fingers, arranging them on the pillows, following them to where they pooled on her body, fingers moving to trace gently over her skin.

She was burning up now, she wanted to pull him down and kiss him again, but he _wanted_ her to ask him, so of course she wouldn't. He looked down at her with dark eyes, and her heart pounded as she wondered what he would do next. She had her answer when he leaned forward to take a nipple between his lips. She moaned, and could feel him smile against her skin. He tortured her with his hot, hot mouth for a few moments while she gasped and whimpered and moved against him restlessly. Then suddenly he was straightening, leaving every nerve in her body tightening painfully.

'Gwendal,' she panted, 'what—'

She trailed off on a gasp when he slid one finger inside her, thumb giving a hard stroke to the tight nub at her centre.

'Ooh,' she moaned, and his fingers stilled at the sound. She blinked the sweat out of her eyes as she looked up at him, frowning.

'Do you want me to continue?' he ground out.

'What?' she asked dazedly.

'Do you want me to continue?'

'What do _you_ think?' she cried incredulously, pulling at her restraints.

'Ask me, then.'

She drew in her breath sharply, biting at her swollen lower lip. 'Never,' she said, glaring at him. He smiled again, fingers stroking her, and she shuddered. She squirmed, trying to evade him, but the restraints held her fast. He kissed her again, fingers still pumping, and she pulled her mouth from his to turn her head away and gasp.

'Anissina, you won't be getting _anything_ tonight unless you ask for it,' he said tauntingly, smile widening.

'Fine,' she said, eyes flashing. 'Gwendal. Untie me so I can kill you for doing this to me!'

He laughed, giving her a hard, deliberate stroke.

She gasped.

'Do you want to try again?' he asked.

'Gwendal,' she moaned, nearly shaking now, 'please…_please_…'

He seemed to realise he had pushed her too far, because he drew away from her to feverishly push his trousers down his hips. He settled himself on her, pulling her legs up around his waist with shaking fingers, and she was gratified to see that she wasn't the only one nearly undone. She had to have her revenge, though, so she bit down hard on his ear lobe when he was within reach, and he stifled his cry of pain to glare at her with eyes that were wild.

He gave her no warning, he thrust into her suddenly, making her fall back against the pillows with a gasp. He started moving then, hard and fast, and she met his thrusts with frantic movements of her own. She shuddered with her release moments later, Gwendal following her with a muffled grunt into her neck.

A long moment later, he leaned forward to whisper softly in her ear:

'Still hate surprises?'

And she could only shake her head.

--

_Two: Only flat surfaces. Nothing that would cause scratches or end up getting stuck in places that would make it uncomfortable for him to ride a horse._

He'd come up with that one after she'd jumped him in the stables one day.

Really, it wasn't her fault, she always was a little…worked up…after she'd had a ride. Usually she was able to hold off until she had dragged him into her rooms, but that day it had been unusually warm in Shin Makoku, and he'd taken off his jacket as soon as they had entered the stables. His white shirt had stuck to the lines of his strong back as he'd moved to take the saddle off...

He'd come eagerly enough when she'd pulled him into one of the less-used sheds and had her way with him, but afterwards, as he'd been dressing, he'd scowled.

'Let's not do this again,' he'd growled, and she had stared at him before he had continued: 'I have _hay_ stuck in some _very_ uncomfortable places.'

She'd stopped giggling at his glare, but she'd very carefully avoided promising any such thing.

--

'We have to be getting back soon.'

He nodded lazily, not bothering to open his eyes. He'd finally gotten into a comfortable position against the tree trunk, the sunshine was warm on his face, and Gunter had promised that he could have an hour to himself.

'Unless…' Anissina's breath tickled his ear as she leaned closer to him and whispered into his hair. 'You want to stay here for a while?'

Her smiling lips met his, tongue sliding into his mouth. Somewhere in the middle of the kiss, her hands moved to his jacket, undoing buttons and sliding into his shirt. Her fingernails found his nipples, and he gasped.

Her answering smile was wicked, and he felt his blood heat.

She moved quickly to pull her blouse off, and his hands immediately went to her breasts. She sighed at his touch, reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He caught her wrists when she made to push his trousers down, blinking his desire away to meet her eyes incredulously.

'Anissina, surely you don't mean to…_here_?'

'Why not?' she asked, smiling at him. She leaned forward to let her breasts touch his chest, grinding her hips against him slowly. His head fell back against the tree trunk with a thump as he groaned.

'Anissina—I thought we—agreed,' he panted, and she interrupted him with: '_I_ didn't agree to anything.'

'But—'

He broke off to look at her in dismay. He couldn't use his jacket as a makeshift blanket, he had a meeting to attend immediately after returning to the castle, and he couldn't go in with a stained uniform. And if he did this without it, he'd be sure to get grass in places that would make it _very_ difficult for him to sit still all through the meeting. After all, she _did_ prefer being on top on such ocassions…

Anissina's smile fell at his silence, and she scrambled off him to stand up. 'Fine,' she blazed at him, picking up her blouse and moving to the opposite side of the tree until he could only hear her angry voice. 'Go back to the castle by yourself. I'll be a while.'

He thunked his head against the tree, wondering how to smooth things over with her, when he heard what sounded like…the rustle of clothes? He lifted his head in time to hear a soft sigh come from behind him.

She wasn't—she _wasn't_…

He jumped up, moving around the tree quickly to face her. Anissina was sitting on the grass before him, back to the tree, blouse off and skirt hiked up, and her fingers were moving between her splayed legs. He must have made some sound, because she opened her eyes to meet his gaze, and then slowly and deliberately gave herself a hard stroke.

There was no way he could withstand that.

He was on her in a moment, both of them tumbling to the grass. She laughed as she pushed him to his back and sat up on him, their hands tangling together as they both undid his trousers. He lifted his hips to help her push them down, knowing that he would pay for this later, but not really caring in that moment.

Her eyes met his as she lifted herself onto her knees. Smiling, she slid onto him, and he gasped.

'Gwendal,' she said softly, and he opened his eyes to meet her gaze. 'Watch,' she said, and with that, she started to move, bracing her hands against his chest as she slid herself up on him, then ground down hard. He moved his hands to her hips to guide her rhythm, but she slapped them away. Rolling his eyes, he moved one hand between them instead, and she arched her back with a cry when his thumb found her.

She picked up the pace then, and soon she was undone, collapsing against him in a gasping heap as he shuddered to his own completion.

'That was worth a little…grass-related discomfort, wasn't it?' she laughed in his ear, and despite himself, he found himself agreeing.

--

_Three: Never in her lab. Ever._

They had broken a pipette the first time they had had sex in her lab, and she had decided then and there that she wouldn't risk any more damage to her equipment. 'The future of science in Shin Makoku is at stake, after all,' she'd said that night.

She always pulled him out her lab just before they could be totally lost to passion, and _he_ always tried to see if he could get her worked up enough that she might lose control and forget.

So far, he had not succeeded.

--

She put a hand to her chin as she looked over her latest invention, wondering what it was that she was missing. Even as she frowned in thought, there was a knock on her door, and Gwendal entered.

'Anissina, I—' he broke off suddenly, frowning himself. 'Where did you get that sword?'

'This is _Practise-Makes-Perfect-Kun_,' she said distractedly, now running her hands over the parts of the machine. 'It's to help cadets practise their sword training—no need to wait for a friend to train with you—but every time I try it out, the damned sword goes flying!'

'Show me.'

She turned the machine on and placed the wrist band on her arm, using her maryokou to power the device. She nodded at Gwendal, and he unsheathed his sword and stepped forward. He raised it in a parry, striking his blade against the sword held by the machine. The next minute, it had fallen to the floor with a clang, and Anissina gave a wordless cry of annoyance as she ripped off the wrist band.

'Why does that keep _happening_?'

'Well,' Gwendal replied, thoughtfully turning his wrist and making his own sword twirl through the air, 'if it had been one of my men, I would've said that his grip is wrong.'

'What do you mean 'wrong'?'

'Pick up the sword.'

She bent and held the sword aloft, and he shook his head. 'No wonder the sword keeps falling. You must've built that thing to hold the sword the same way _you_ do.'

'Well, what's wrong with that?' she asked challengingly, swishing her sword through the air. 'See?' She made a few quick moves, like she had often seen him do. He rolled his eyes, and then he had stabbed through the air and knocked her sword to the floor.

She gaped at him, and he smirked. 'Your grip is wrong,' he repeated calmly. He bent to pick up the sword, and coming toward her, he pushed it into her hand, adjusting her fingers where necessary. He then quickly faced her again, motioning her to repeat her actions.

This time, her sword stayed in her hand as he parried her attack. It _hurt_, though, the force of it wrenching her shoulder, and she stepped back as he made to continue, shaking her arm to get some feeling back.

'Let me try it out,' she said, moving to _Practise-Makes-Perfect-Kun_. He watched silently as she adjusted the settings, and strapped the sword in again.

'Let's hope this works,' she said, putting the wrist band on again. She nodded, and he stepped forward with sword outstretched again. He repeated his actions, and this time there was a satisfying ring of metal against metal. Pulling the wrist band off, she flung her arms around Gwendal, crowing in triumph. He grunted as he wrapped his free arm around her waist, and when she raised her lips to his, his surprised eyes blinked at her for a moment before he responded enthusiastically.

Soon his fingers had made their way into her blouse and up her skirt, and she pulled away from him on a gasp when they became bolder. 'Come on,' she said, tugging at his hand as she tried to lead him away to her bedroom. He shook his head, though, suddenly hoisting her up onto her countertop.

'Gwendal!' she cried, 'I told you, _not_ in my lab!'

'I promise I'll be very, very careful,' he breathed into her ear, and she shivered at the sensation. 'Besides, I wouldn't do anything to jeapordise your inventions, you know that. This latest one looks like it might actually be useful.'

She opened her mouth to scold him for disparaging her work, but he took advantage of it to meet her open mouth with his own, sliding his tongue inside. Their hands collided on the buttons of her blouse, and then he had pulled it open to bare her flesh to his mouth.

His hands, meandwhile, smoothed down over her skin to stop at her hip, where he tapped her lightly. Obligingly, she lifted her hips up so he could slide her skirt up around her waist, holding her breath as he stroked the skin of her inner thigh.

He flashed her a heated look, clamping his hands hard on her hips as he dropped to his knees before her. And then he was lifting one leg, draping it over his shoulder as her head spun.

Surely he wasn't going to—

'Oooh,' she moaned, unable to complete the thought as she felt the first stroke of his talented tongue.

She flung her arms out to clench the tabletop with both hands as he continued. Just a few moments more…a few moments…

So it came as an unpleasant surprise when he stopped and abruptly stood up to face her.

'What—why did you stop?' she stammered at him, pressing her thighs together to stop their tingling.

'Now that I think about it, perhaps you're right,' he said calmly, though his voice shook with supressed amusement. 'We shouldn't be doing this in your lab, we might damage something. I wouldn't feel right if—'

'Gwendal,' she growled, 'shut up and come here.'

He did as he was told, even as he chuckled.

--

_Four: When he was knitting, he was not to be disturbed._

Now that he had gotten her to break most of her rules, she had taken it as a personal challenge to make him break his own, as well.

There was only one left, and he knew it, too, so he always took care to lock his door when he wanted to knit. Gunter pouted and told him that it was a terrible inconvenience, and what if he had to tell him something _important_, but Gwendal refused to budge.

'Send me a pigeon message,' he'd replied, and Lady Celi had clucked her tongue at him. '_Really_, Gwennie,' she'd said. 'Sending a pigeon to someone just down the hall!'

Anissina had said nothing then, but later that night, she had begun planning in earnest.

--

'Gwendal!'

He looked up at the knock at his door, but did not move from his chair. If he opened the door now, she would try something to distract him from his knitting, he was sure of it. He had seen that gleam in her eye when Gunter had complained about his locking his door whenever he knitted; he knew she was up to _something_.

'Not now, Anissina, I'm busy.'

'Oh, don't flatter yourself, Gwendal,' her annoyed voice floated to him. 'I just needed some wool for a project I'm working on, and I'm all out of red.'

Well, she _had_ been locked up in her lab since last night, so maybe she was telling the truth…

He got up with a sigh, opening the door a crack to so that he could gauge her attitude. She wasn't smirking in triumph that she had gotten him to open the door, so maybe she wasn't really here to get the better of him.

She pushed the door open all the way, striding in quickly and pulling open the door to the cabinet where he kept his supplies. She started rooting through his bundles of wool, and he frowned at her back. Anissina didn't knit much anymore, that she was working on a knitting project now was intriguing.

'What is it?'

'Hmm?'

'What are you working on?' he asked, frowning as he tried to recall any pattern that called for an abundance of red.

'Oh, nothing important,' she replied distractedly.

Damn the woman. She must know he couldn't just let it go now, he _had_ to find out what it was. 'Anissina, tell me,' he insisted, and she finally turned to face him.

'I wouldn't want to disturb you,' she said, and he rolled his eyes in irritation.

'Anissina,' he growled, and she held up her hands in surrender.

'Alright, if you insist,' she said, hands moving to the buttons of her blouse.

'What are you _doing_?' he cried, quickly closing the door to his room and locking it. 'I _knew_ it, it was all just a—'

He fell silent when she finally pulled off her blouse.

'Do you like it?' she asked coyly, even as her lips twitched. 'His Majesty's mother sent one to both me and Lady Celi. In her note, she says it's called a _'bra'_.'

Did he _like_ it? Was the woman insane? Of _course_ he liked it.

'Why—' he cleared his throat, and tried again. 'Why do you need the red wool?'

'Well, I wanted to add a little bow in the middle, right _here_—'

He groaned as he stepped toward her, knowing that had fallen perfectly into her trap and that this meant she had won.

She was laughing at him as he kissed her, but surrender had never been so delightful.

--

_Five: Their relationship was to be kept secret from everyone else in the castle. Especially from his mother._

They had both agreed on this one, the thrill of meeing in secret, of breaking away from their daily routines for a torrid interlude was too good to pass up.

This was _theirs_. It was still all too new, too precious to share with anyone else.

Besides, if his mother were to ever find out, she'd insist on a wedding—_it seems you're my only hope for blood-grandchildren, Gwennie darling_!—so fast that it would make their heads spin.

So they had to be careful. And above all, they had to be discreet.

Of course, it was hard to remember that when they fought.

--

He yawned as he raised himself on one elbow to blow out the lone candle that burned in his rooms.

'Goodnight,' he said, settling himself into bed again.

'What are your plans for tomorrow?' a sleepy voice answered him as he tried to find a comfortable position. It was strange to get used to someone else in his bed when he had been alone for so long, it was always a while before he could get to sleep.

'Yozak should be coming in tomorrow with his report,' he said tiredly, as Anissina fidgeted in the bed herself. 'What about you?'

'_Quick Notes-Kun_ should be ready for its test tomorrow,' she replied, yawning. 'So you might need to put about an hour aside for me.'

'Anissina,' he muttered, pounding his pillow into proper shape, 'there are far more important things for me to worry about than one of your stupid inventions. If Yozak's last message is right, we might have found one of the Boxes and—'

Suddenly the bed heaved, and he felt her foot on his hip. There was a movement, and then he had tumbled to the floor.

'Did you just…push me out of _my own bed_?'

In reply, she scrambled out, clutching the blankets to her as she glared down at him.

'Don't you _ever_ call my inventions stupid!'

He got to his feet, shaking in his anger. 'How dare you push me out of my own bed!'

'You deserved it!'

'Well, so did you, because your inventions _are_ stupid! None of them ever does what it's supposed to do!'

She gasped. 'You take that back!'

'The truth hurts, does it?' He asked, smiling nastily.

She drew herself up proudly, glaring at him icily. 'Get out.'

'What?'

'Get. Out.' She repeated through clenched teeth.

He laughed harshly, crossing his arms. 'Sorry, but these are _my_ rooms. I'm not going anywhere.'

She muttered under her breath as she began to move to the door, but she stopped when he called out: 'And leave the sheets, those are mine, too.'

She whirled to face him, her lips thinned, and for a moment he thought she was going to hit him. Then she exhaled harshly, and let the sheets drop to the floor. She grabbed his nightrobe off the chair before her, swinging around to pin him with a glare that said: _object to_ this_ and I will happily_ kill_ you_.

He crossed the room to pointedly gather up his sheets as she struggled into his robe and belted the waist. He had just wrapped the sheets around himself when he heard her say sweetly, 'Gwendal?'

He looked up to see that she had picked up the water pitcher that stood on his nighttable, and there was a devilish light in her eyes.

'Don't you _dare_!' he shouted, and she smiled.

'I dare.'

--

He jerked awake, wondering what had happened to wake him from one moment to the next.

Then he heard it: a distant roar of rage, followed by a door slamming shut. There was the sound of running feet, and Conrart was out of his bed in moments, reaching for his sword and unsheathing it quickly. Were they under attack? There would have been an alarm in that case, but…

He pulled the door open silently, only to see his mother standing in her own open doorway, a finger to her lips. She pointed down the hall with a gleeful smile, and he tilted his head in that direction in time to see Gwendal's door open and slam shut. He stared at his older brother as he ran down the corridor away from them, water dripping from his unbound hair and a sheet around his waist.

'Anissina!'

Now that he knew she was there, he could make out her form in the feeble light from the torches that lined the walls. Gwendal reached forward and fisted his hand in the robe she was wearing, drawing her to a halt. Conrart blinked, squinting as he tried to make out…was that _Gwendal_'s robe she was wearing?

They were too far away to make out their conversation, but he could see that they were talking—with a lot of angry gesticulation—and then suddenly Anissina stepped closer, laying a hand on Gwendal's arm. His brother's face softened, and he spoke less forcefully now. Anissina nodded, and then she caught Gwendal by the hand and led him back to his room.

As the door closed behind them—more softly, this time—Conrart looked at his mother, shaking his head in amazement. That those two could have been carrying on right under everyone's noses all this time, and none of them had been the wiser, not even His Eminence!

His mother grinned back at him, bouncing on the balls of her feet in happiness.

Well, if they _wanted_ to keep it secret…

He stepped forward, and his mother met him in the corridor.

'Maybe we should keep this between ourselves, mother,' he started.

'But Conrart,' she replied, clasping her hands together with a winning smile, 'this is wonderful news! Everyone deserves to know, and _they_ deserve congratulations!'

'I think they would prefer to make the announcement themselves,' he insisted quietly, and after a quick, disappointed sigh, she nodded. 'Alright then, I'll wait. And I promise I'll act surprised when they _do_ tell me.'

He nodded, satisfied. 'Well, good night, mother,' he said softly, turning to go back into his room, and she grinned as she replied:

'Neither one of us is going to have as good a night as _those_ two, I bet.'

--

_Sooner or later, though, most rules are broken._

--

* * *

A/N: Hee. That was fun to write. *G*

Thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is welcome. :)


	16. Never Again

**Title:** Never Again  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Spoilers for episode 48  
**Prompt being used:** Jealousy  
**Timeline:** Set pre, during and post episode 48, season two.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

'Not now, Anissina.'

She frowned, and he went on, continuing to make his notes, 'You can't bully Gunter into it, either. We've received word that a foreign delegation should be arriving soon, so we'll both be too busy to act as your experimental subjects.'

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue, but Gwendal was not more forthcoming, and so she had to ask him: 'A delegation from where, and why are they coming here, exactly? Is there something I should know about?'

'It's a delegation from Cabalcade and I cannot tell you why they are travelling to meet us because I am not sure, myself.' Gwendal raised an eyebrow as he looked up from his paperwork. 'Satisfied?'

She looked at him for a long moment, still half suspicious that there was something important he was omitting to tell her. He only looked back at her blandly, with the slightest hint of impatience.

'I will be,' she finally replied, 'when I test out my latest invention. I'll just have to postpone it if you and Gunter are going to be busy,' she sniffed, choosing to ignore the look of relief that crossed Gwendal's face. 'Maybe I can get Dakaskos to test out one of my other ones…'

She was already running through her mental checklist and trying to decide what would be suitable for someone with as low maryokou as Dakaskos to test out, which was why she was not able to immediately identify the expression that flitted across Gwendal's face as she waved absentmindedly and closed the door behind her.

Later, though, she recognised it as regret.

--

It had to be done.

There was no other way; he had discussed it with Gunter and Conrart, and though they had both protested initially, in the end they had agreed that this was the only option. _He_ would be the one to meet Belal. Conrart was too important, being the Maou's sword, Wolfram was his fiance, and Gunter was his tutor and guide.

But he was only the one who handled the paperwork.

Expendable.

As a strategist, he could see the beauty of the plan; Belal would think he had tricked them, but in reality, Shin Makoku would have had the upper hand all along. And just when the man thought he'd gotten him in his grasp, Gwendal would strike.

There was always a chance that they might not make it back alive, he'd talked to Yozak about it, but the spy had only nodded and said, quite soberly, for once: 'If it'll help the kiddo have the peace he dreams of, I don't care what happens to me.'

He had ordered the man to arrange an escape route for himself if it should come to that, but he knew Yozak, if worse came to worst the spy would stubbornly refuse to leave him behind to save himself.

Which was why he was now in the privacy of his rooms, poring over the blueprints for the castle that was coming up on Bandabia island. Belal may think he was erecting it in perfect secrecy, but if you knew where to seek it, information like that could always be bought. He rested his hands on his desk as he leaned over the plans lit only by a lone candle, his eyes following the various corridors in the castle to determine the best escape routes. They would need a diversion…perhaps a fire?

If they were able to pull it off just right, they'd be able to escape in the melee that followed the shock of Belal's assassination and the subsequent fire that roared through the castle.

But if they couldn't make it out in time…

If he failed, he would be dead. That in itself was not worrying, but it was the thought of leaving behind his loved ones that nagged at him.

His mother would be devastated, as she had been when his father had died. Conrart's smile would become a mask again, and it was very likely that Wolfram would fall apart in his rage and sorrow, as he had when they had thought Conrart dead. The Maou would blame himself, and Gunter would be distraught by the boy's distress. He could not accurately predict the reaction of His Eminence Murata Ken, however, perhaps because the man was as adept at hiding his emotions as he himself was.

And Anissina…

He grimaced. If he knew her - and he _did_ - she would pretend on the surface that everything was alright - after all, no one in the castle knew of their relationship, they would not think it untoward if she did not wail and cry as his mother would. But it would eat away at her, day after day and night after night until one day it would prove to be too much for her and she would _explode_.

He shuddered. He well remembered how it had been after her mother had died, that time _he_ had been the one to purposely draw her fire in an effort to get her to come to terms with her grief, and the outburst of maryokou and tears that had followed had not been pretty.

But if _he_ were the object of her grief…

He quickly pushed the plans under the other papers on his desk when there was a knock on his door. Anissina peeked her head in, squinting as she eased her way inside. 'I still don't see why we can't have them keep a torch lit outside your rooms,' she grumbled as she came toward him slowly, stumbling a little in the gloom. She raised a hand to forestall him when he opened his mouth. 'I know, security reasons. But it would make it a _lot_ easier to sneak into your rooms if I could see where I was tip-toeing.'

He caught her around the waist as she drew closer to him, wishing for just a moment that he could confess all to her and hold her tight in case he would never again get another chance to do so. But if she found out what he had planned, she would stop him from going, even if she had to knock him unconscious to do it.

So he pushed away his sadness and kissed her like there was no tomorrow. Because for him, there might not be.

--

When she awoke, she was alone. Anissina frowned. She knew Gwendal was an early riser, but this was just absurd. Though the curtains were drawn, she could see that it was still dark outside.

She slumped back into his sheets with a roll of her eyes. Really, if he was in a hurry, he should've just told her. She could've had one of her special super fast sails fitted to the ships he'd planned to take with him so that they would get him to his destination faster. Instead, he had left so early that it was practically still night time. He'd told her he was going to Cabalcade, but surely it didn't take more than half a day's journey to get there? And the talks were only tomorrow morning. Unless…he wanted to make a few stops along the way, all as part of one of his famously circuitous plans…

She sat up then, frowning. It was his one vanity, his pride in his reputation as a strategist. He had never hidden anything from her before, when she asked him about any of his plans, Gwendal usually told her everything – in such minute detail that she often wandered mentally and took to drawing invention designs in her head as he spoke.

This time, he had not mentioned anything to her about a plan, though, all he had said was that he would be going to Bandabia to represent the Shin Makoku alliance.

She climbed out of bed, pulling on one of his robes and lighting the candle on his nightstand. Her eye fell on the note he had left for her under the water pitcher, and she picked it up.

_I didn't want to disturb you, so I left without saying goodbye._

The ink of the next sentence was lighter, almost as if he had thought about his words for such a long time that his quill had dried.

_I'll see you soon._

Love,

Gwendal

She frowned at the signature. He was not one to use those words to her, he was still reticient when it came to declarations of love, yet here they were in his neat, deliberate hand. Her unease growing, Anissina folded the note and tucked it into her pocket. She made her way out the room, intent on finding Yozak.

When she realised the spy was missing, as well, the memory of the way Gwendal had held her last night suddenly slammed into her. There had been an aching, wistful quality in his kiss, and his arms had been unusually tight around her as she had drifted off to sleep, as if he had been afraid she would leave…

Or that he would not return from his latest mission.

It was then that she decided it was time to start work on something that would be capable of bringing Gwendal back _fast_, because even if the Maou would not go after him, _she_ would.

If only to make her displeasure with him very, _very_ obvious.

--

'Out. Everyone.'

Gisela blinked, her hands still raised to Gwenal's head, and the maids who were bringing him his morning cup of tea fell back as Anissina advanced. She glared when they made no move to leave, narrowing her eyes. 'Didn't you hear me? I want to have a word with von Voltaire _alone_.'

The maids' eyes grew round as they hurried to leave, and she could already hear the gossip that would spread about this little incident, but right now she was too angry to care. She didn't glance at Gwendal, afraid that if she did, she'd start screaming at him in front of everyone else. It was only with great effort that she had managed to control her temper so far.

'But Anissina, I have to check Lord von Voltaire for any injuries,' Gisela protested. 'The Maou and the others have only just returned from Bandabia, there's a chance-'

'You can do it later,' she snapped at the younger woman, even as she realised she was taking her anger out on the wrong target. She took a deep breath, and softened her tone. 'Please, Gisela.'

The healer gazed at her a moment before nodding, turning to take her equipment with her as she went. Gisela threw them one last worried look as she shut the door behind her, and it was then that Anissina finally met Gwendal's eyes. He had the grace to look chastened, his gaze dropping to his desk before rising to hers again. He said nothing in his defense, and somehow that managed to make her angrier than she had been even moments before.

She leaned forward to plant her fists on his table with a great thump, feeling a petty happiness when his eyes widened as his cup of tea nearly splashed onto his paperwork with her movement.

'How could you?' she asked him, in a low voice.

He looked up, immediately glancing away again. 'Anissina, I knew if I told you of the plan, you would only try to stop me, and I couldn't –'

'You _idiot_!'

He blinked as the words burst from her, leaning away from the force of her fury.

'Did it never occur to you that if you had just told me what you were planning to do, I might have _helped_ you in some manner?' she spat into his surprised face. 'Made sure that you would be able to accomplish your mission and leave the castle without any problems? After all, it was _my_ inventions that helped tip the scales in our favour in the Great War, _or have you forgotten that_?'

'Anissina, I-'

'Don't try to deny it,' she raged at him, unable to stop herself now that she had started. 'Admit that you were stupid. It was only because I had already started on _Super Speed Fast-kun_ that His Majesty and the others were able to catch up with you in time to help you!'

'So I can thank _you_ for the lot of them spoiling my plan,' Gwendal growled, pushing his chair back and standing up so that they were nose to nose. 'I might have known.'

She straightened, her fury growing at the way he refused to admit he was wrong.

'Don't you _dare_ shift this to me! You should have told me what you were planning! Did you think I would be so blinded by my love for you that I would tie you to the bed to keep you here?' she snarled at him. 'Did you think I would not understand the importance of this mission to Shin Makoku, that I would not have done _everything_ in my power to make sure you fulfilled it and made it back to us safely?'

'Alright,' he said, his tone slightly subdued now. 'I admit I may have underestimated you. I was afraid you might get carried away in your emotion, even if you understood how important the mission was.'

'You told Conrart,' she blazed at him. 'And you told Gunter. You trusted your _brother_ to put aside his emotions and do what needed to be done, but you didn't trust me!'

He rocked back on his heels, his scowl lifting. 'You're jealous,' he said wonderingly, and she drew in a sharp breath. 'I am not,' she snapped back immediately, turning away from him in a huff, but the observation had pierced her, and it made her wonder, now.

A gentle hand on her crossed arms startled her, and she looked up into Gwendal's contrite gaze.

'Please, Anissina, forgive me,' he said softly. 'I obviously underestimated you. It does not mean that I think any less of you, or that I do not trust you as I do them.' He swallowed, and his voice was lower when he spoke again. 'Perhaps I was afraid that if I told you what I had planned, I would have to acknowledge to myself that there was a good chance I might not return to you. I was afraid I would be tempted to stay.'

Her anger had all but ebbed away now, and she went into his arms when he drew her closer. She glared up at him one last time, though, meeting his eyes so he could see she was serious.

'Never do it again,' she warned him, and he shook his head slowly, solemnly.

'Never,' he promised her, and she nodded.

* * *

A/N: Sadly, I still fail at naming chapters. :P Anyway, thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)


	17. Aftershocks

**Word Count:** 1,123  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Vague spoilers for episodes 76-78 and the beginning of season three.  
**Prompt being used:** Politics  
**Timeline:** Set post episode 78, season two.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

A set of related ficlets, but not in any chronological order. Also, I'm as clueless as Yuuri when it comes to politics, so you'll have to forgive my pathetic attempts at such. :P

* * *

She hummed contentedly as she dismantled the machine into its component parts; there was no need for weapons of this sort anymore. Soushu was gone - for good, this time - and while they may never have everlasting peace, it gave her a sense of satisfaction to know that the fighting could stop for a little while now.

Anissina looked out of the window into the courtyard where the repair work went on, her hands stilling. The sun was shining, it was a beautiful day, and the soldiers outside – though harried and scolded by Gisela – smiled as they went about their work.

This peace had been hard earned, and they all deserved a rest. Leaving her work half finished, she pushed her chair back and made her way out of her room.

Time to see whether Gwendal could be enticed outside for a picnic.

--

He'd never admit it, but there had been a moment when he had been very close to giving up.

So he is grateful that Anissina had come when she had, in time to berate them and shame them into fighting their enemy. And though they had known they were facing insourmountable odds – taking on the Shinou was a daunting task in itself, but the Shinou made more powerful by Soushu? Utter suicide.

Still, they had come through somehow, and all the struggle- losing Conrart and then getting him back again, finding each of the Boxes, the Maou's departure – had led to this time of peace they now enjoyed.

And if the Nobles squabbled amongst themselves to choose a new Maou, and Wolfram was heartbroken and Greta ached for her father, well then, that was the price they had to pay so that the people of Shin Makoku could look forward to a few years without war.

--

' – And Waltorona is pushing for Wolfram to be named Maou, Wolfram himself mopes about the castle – I'd send him off to Bielefeld for a change of scenery but I know his damned uncle will only take the opportunity to try to persuade him to his way of thinking – and Gunter is as bad as Wolfram – did you know he burst into tears today, just looking at the Maou's signature on an old decree? Conrart tries to help out where he can, but the truth is we're fighting a losing battle. Greta cries herself to sleep every night but I'm not supposed to know about it so I cannot try and comfort her as I normally would, and Yozak has slunk off Shinou knows where, leaving only a note saying he's taking a 'well earned vacation', von Grantz has escaped again, the repair work is behind schedule, and – _what now?_'

The messenger who had opened the door quailed under the glare Gwendal shot him.

'Your Excellency, it's Lord von Christ,' he quavered out. 'He wishes to search the temple records for information on travel between the worlds but Lady Ulrike insists he must leave. She sent one of the shrine maidens to get you because Lord von Christ refused to go.'

Throwing his hands up with a growl, Gwendal stalked off, leaving Anissina blinking dazedly as he shut the door behind him.

And all she'd asked had been: 'So, how was _your_ day?'

--

Now that all the Boxes were back in Shin Makoku and Soushu had been defeated –again by a Maou- all the other countries, even the human ones that had traditionally been their enemies these many years, wanted to ally themselves with them.

It would have pleased their bleeding heart king excessively. Too bad the boy wasn't here to see it himself.

And of course, it would've helped the negotiations if the leaders of these countries could see the hero who had saved them all from Soushu.

None of them had been pleased to find that the Maou had disappeared- perhaps never to return, though everyone was careful not the say those words. _How can we ally ourselves with a country with no king_, was what every negotiation talk boiled down to in the end.

And it was at times like these that he missed His Eminence Murata Ken. The man was particularly adept at manipulation – he'd had _four thousand_ years practise, after all. He himself had no head for it, and Gunter was still so distressed by the absence of their boy-king that he was prone to bursting into tears at the very mention of his name.

No help for it, Gwendal thought, as he buttoned up the ceremonial coat he wore to the meetings. There was work to be done, and so he would do it.

--

'It's nice and quiet here, isn't it?'

'Hmmm?'

She tilted her head back to see that Gwendal wasn't even looking at her, he was reading the document in his hand with a frown. She pulled a face, but kept her thoughts to herself. It was enough that she had been able to drag him out of doors for this long, she _couldn't_ in good conscience demand that he abandon his duties, not with the situation as it was.

Reports from all over the country said the same thing: the threat of Soushu – and the very real possibility that the world would end - had caused a complete breakdown of law and order in all the provinces. The Nobles were doing their best, but it would take a while for things to return to normal.

Gwendal was reading a report from his cousin which detailed the situation in Voltaire, and she knew he wanted to go to the man's aid, but he was held here by his responsibilities to the absent Maou.

She played absently with his fingers where they lay on her shoulder, shifting her head in his lap so that she might be more comfortable. She had finallly been able to get Gwendal to leave the castle with the admonition that the fresh air would do him some good, but he had insisted on bringing his paperwork along, and she could not refuse.

She was fortunate, she realised, that she had never had any interest in ruling her own province. Her father had been content to let her putter around in her laboratory with her pipettes and her test tubes while Densham had been trained to take over from their father, though they all knew that she could be a more capable ruler than either of them, had she chosen it.

Gwendal, however, had not had the luxury of choice. He was a man who took his responsibilities very seriously.

So she said nothing to disturb him, only clutching his hand a little tighter to her chest as he continued to read and mutter to himself.

* * *

A/N: More genfic than G/A-shippy, but then the events of the wide world around them should affect a couple, too, atleast in my opinion. :shrugs: Thanks for reading, all concrit is very welcome. :)

Many thanks to **LazyCatfish27** and **jenri92** for taking the time and trouble to read every chapter and leave a review. :)

Also, any comments any of you leave always makes my day, so thanks to each and every one of you who reads and reviews.


	18. Questions and Answers

**Title:** Questions and Answers  
**Word Count:** 2,910  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Spoilers for episode 89 of season three. This really won't make much sense unless you've seen it first. If you still want to read this without seeing that, though, PM me and I shall be happy to fill you in. =)  
**Prompt being used:** Isolation  
**Timeline:** Set pre, during and post episode 89.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

'Nicola—'

The woman looked up, and laughed as she took the baby from his arms. 'You're so like Hube, Your Excellency! Eru won't break if you hold him a little more tightly!'

Gwendal folded his arms with a frown. 'He was fidgeting,' he grunted, and Nicola's smile widened. He looked quickly out of the window to avoid acknowledging her amusement, and his gaze fell on his cousin's carriage, which had just drawn up to the castle.

Nicola joined him at the window, raising a hand to the glass and smiling down at her husband. 'I never did thank you for what you did for us, Your Excellency,' she said softly, turning her gaze to his. 'If you hadn't pardoned Hube, we wouldn't have had any of this.'

'It was His Majesty's will,' he said gruffly, but Nicola's smile deepened and her eyes filled as she shook her head. She leaned forward suddenly, kissing him on the cheek, and he reared back just as Gegenhuber entered the room.

Nicola immediately moved to her husband's side, placing their child in his arms, and Gwendal watched as Gegenhuber balanced Eru in one arm while he wrapped the other around his wife's waist. They seemed so happy together, and he realised suddenly that he wanted what his cousin had. He, too, wanted to one day come home to a wife and children, to be able to put his arm around Anissina without first checking to see whether they were alone or not…

'Your Excellency, what brings you here? All is well in the capital?'

He looked up when Gegenhuber's voice broke into his thoughts, directing him to the table where he had spread out all the documents given to him by His Eminence regarding the White Crows.

Soon they were deep in discussion about their enemy's next target, but he did not forget the decision he had made that day.

It came back to him once he had returned to Covenant Castle, when he saw Anissina smile brilliantly at him when he sat down to dinner that night.

No delaying, he told himself as he pulled her closer much later that night and blew out the candle in her rooms. Tomorrow, he would ask her.

--

She was humming to herself as she brushed her hair and watched Gwendal get dressed. The little bandage on his forehead—a souvenir from last morning, when she had gotten him to test out her latest invention—detracted from his look somewhat. He raised a hand to it when he bent to look for his boots under her bed, and his grunt of pain had her biting her lip in guilt.

But then, she hadn't _forced_ him into anything. Their changed relationship made it very easy for her to get him to act as test subject, all she had to do was latch onto his sleeve and widen her eyes and he was helpless. It really was amusing.

'Anissina.'

She looked up and met Gwendal's gaze in the mirror when he called her name. He seemed to have found his boots, because he came to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. Her hand stilled at the serious look in his eyes, and she set down the hair brush.

'What is it, Gwendal?'

She raised her hands to his, frowning when he took a deep breath, as if he was nervous. What in Shinou's name had gotten into him today?

'Gwendal—'

She was just beginning to get exasperated with him when one of his hands slipped up, and gently tapped her left cheek. Her stunned gaze met his in the mirror, and then she was pushing her chair back and turning to face him.

'Gwendal, what—'

'I would've thought it was obvious,' he said, with a small, shy smile. 'I'm asking you to marry me.'

'Gwendal, I—_can't_!'

His smile faded, to be replaced by a look of shock. 'But I thought you—' He broke off, clamping his lips shut on the words.

'You don't understand, Gwendal,' she said miserably. 'I _do_ love you. I just—can't _marry_ you.'

'Why not? Is it your mother? Because I—'

'It's not that,' she said, extending a hand to him now, beseeching him to understand. 'The women of Shin Makoku see me as a symbol of women's emancipation. To them I am everything they aspire to be—bold, confident, smart—and above all, _independent_! I can't tie myself to a man—any man—not even you.'

'Is that what you think it would be like?' Gwendal asked, eyes wide as he took a step back. 'You honestly think I would tie you down?'

'No!' She reached for his fisted hands, taking them into her own. 'No, I know you would never do that, Gwendal. But _they_ don't.'

'So you would live your life as _they_ see fit?' He snarled, shaking himself free of her grasp. 'You would deny me my happiness—and yours—all for the sake of these people you don't even know?'

'Gwendal, please—'

'You may be so noble,' he gritted out, taking another step away from her, 'but I am not.' He turned and strode to the door, even as she stared at him in shock. 'I won't trouble you with this question ever again.'

He closed the bedroom door behind him, and she was left staring after him despondently.

--

'What's gotten into you, Gwendal? You're grumpy, even for you.'

'Nothing's wrong with me, now can we please get back to work?' He glared at Gunter, and the man gave him a long, appraising look before turning back to his paperwork.

He gripped his quill tightly as he turned back to his own work, looking down at the document before him but not really reading it.

Gunter was right. He had been making his anger and frustration with the situation with Anissina apparent, and such unprofessionalism was unbecoming of him. He had asked a question, and he had gotten an answer. It had not been the answer he had hoped for, true, but that was no reason for him to lose focus.

He had just started to read the document before him when the door opened, and Yozak Gurrier strode in. 'Nice to see I'm not the only one working my fingers to the bone for Shin Makoku, my lords,' he drawled with a smile.

'Do you have any news?'

Even as he asked the other man the question, the door opened again to admit the Maou, with his usual entourage of Conrart and Wolfram. His Eminence Murata Ken was with them today, though, and Gwendal watched with mounting anger as the five of them immediately fell into the most frivolous of conversation.

'Now that we've all greeted each other satisfactorily, can we get down to business?' he snarled, and everyone jumped, even Yozak and Conrart.

Wolfram looked suitably abashed, but His Eminence only gave him a look very similar to the one Gunter had given him. Conrart and the Maou immediately took seats around the meeting table, and finally he was able to hear what Yozak had to say.

--

Anissina absently crumbled a bisuit as she stared down at the letter before her. Her tea had long since grown cold, but she had bigger things to worry about. _Lord von Rochefort_, she thought angrily, pushing the letter from her brother aside. How dare Densham set up something like this without even asking her?

She would never marry the man. She had made it clear to her brother the last time she had seen him that she would not marry—had explained it all, how it would affect her movement for Women's Emancipation, how as the leader and symbol of the movement she could not give up her independence—but clearly her brother had not been listening.

How else to explain this…blind date he had set up?

With a snort of anger, she pushed aside her plate of biscuits and stood up. Something had to be done, and immediately. Her eye fell on her bookshelf, where her copy of _Romelo and Argent_ occupied pride of place.

With a smile, she picked up the book and tucked it under her arm. Gwendal would help her, despite their little…disagreement of the morning, she was sure of it. After all, he wouldn't want to see her going off on a blind date with another man.

With a satisfied nod, she left the room.

--

He couldn't believe her.

He couldn't _believe_ her!

She had rejected him in the morning, and then blithely come to him that same afternoon with another one of her hare brained schemes, assuming he would meekly fall in line like he always did.

So he wasn't good enough to marry, but he was good enough to help her get out of an unwanted marriage?

With a snarl, Gwendal ripped off his jacket and flung it across the room. It landed on the floor with a satisfying thump, and he quickly stripped off his boots and trousers as well, flinging them away in the same manner.

Let the maids gossip about his uncharacteristic loss of temper as they cleared his room tomorrow, he thought darkly as he climbed into bed and blew out the candle. Right now, he felt angry enough to cause an earthquake and make the ground swallow Anissina's precious lab and everything in it.

After Anissina had left that afternoon, Conrart had stood up quickly with some talk of seeing that the great hall was ready for the upcoming meeting with Lord von Rochefort, taking everyone—including Gunter—out of the room with him.

If he didn't know better, he could've sworn Conrart had guessed something of the relationship between himself and Anissina and had knowingly given him a moment alone, his brother had slanted a sympathetic glance at him as he had herded everyone out of the door.

Yozak had lingered, however, and when he had looked up, he had immediately known that unlike his brother, the spy didn't suspect, he _knew_ what was going on with him and Anissina. Even as he had narrowed his eyes at the other man, Yozak had taken an unusually long pause before he had spoken. 'Your Excellency, I could make sure a pigeon reached Lady Celi in a day's time, if you feel the need to contact her for advice—'

Yozak had coughed the rest of the sentence away when he had looked up at him with a glare, and by the time Gwendal had turned back to his paperwork the door had been swinging softly shut behind him.

Now, as he drew the covers over himself, he remembered the stunned look in Anissina's eyes when he had told her they would have _nothing_ to do with each other any more, and in the blaze of satisfied anger that followed, he couldn't quite summon up any regret over it.

--

The horse's hoofbeats seemed unnaturally loud in her ears as they raced away from Covenant Castle.

Anissina stared at Gwendal's back, trying to understand why he had done as he had. He'd told her, very emphatically—and with numerous witnesses present—that they would have nothing to do with each other, and yet here they were, eloping together.

After he'd broken it off with her, she'd been stunned and disbelieving; that night she had lain awake for hours, expecting at any moment to hear him open the door and slide into her bed, angry and sulking but still _there_ with her.

When morning had come and gone and he had still not stomped into her laboratory, she had gone looking for him, sure that his anger would have cooled and things could go back to the way they were. She had pushed open his door and entered his office as she usually did, but when he had looked up at her, his eyes had been shuttered and blank.

'Gwendal?' she had said hesitantly, and he had only turned back to his paperwork.

The sting of his dismissal had felt like a slap to the face, and as she had slowly turned to go, Gunter had avoided her stunned eyes.

She did not try to meet Gwendal again after that.

In the next three days, though, her disbelief had faded, and she had worked herself up into a fury. So he wanted to cut her out of his life completely, did he? Well then, she would not go crawling back to him, she had decided, gnashing her teeth in anger as she had perfected her plans to bring her brother's schemes crashing down around his ears.

She had told Gwendal the truth, depsite whatever he might think. The maids' words had only confirmed it, they—and every other woman in Shin Makoku—_did_ see her as a symbol of everything the Women's Emancipation Movement hoped to achieve. Strong and independent, not one to be tied down by something so conventional as _marriage_.

At night, though, when there were no co-conspirators to trade plans with, she had remembered all too clearly the look of anguish in Gwendal's eyes when she had turned him down. She had thought—hoped—that they would be able to move past this, but clearly she had been wrong.

She had tossed and turned every night for hours, hoping to find a comfortable position. After nearly a year of sharing a bed with him, it had been difficult to go to sleep with the absence of a warm body at her side.

At those times, when sleep had been elusive and it had seemed she held her heartbreak at bay only with sheer willpower, she had started to wonder bleakly when it was that independence began to look more and more like isolation. Would she have to spend the rest of life alone—just to prove that a woman did not need a man to have a fulfilling life—despite what _she_ wanted for herself?

But as the despair had surged through her, the words she had heard only a few days earlier had strengthened her resolve: _Elevating the female status is Lady Anissina's life! That's why she's so admirable!_

Sitting behind Gwendal on the horse now, though, she wondered if she had made the right choice, after all. Really, wouldn't it be a better thing for the Women's Movement if she could make her marriage an example—show the women of Shin Makoku what a marriage between two equals could _really_ be like?

Perhaps there was still hope, she thought, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Gwendal had come for her, even after his declaration of a few days ago. He still cared, even if only a little bit.

But was it too late for them to go back to the way things had been?

She leaned her head forward so that it rested on his shoulder, and he stiffened at the contact, but remained silent. Anissina gave a quick sigh. It seemed she would have the answer to that once they reached their destination, whatever it was.

--

She had said nothing when he had ridden past their usual spot, the tree where they had spent so many days out of the castle, and for that he was grateful. He had ridden until his horse had started heaving with the effort and they had reached a small lake, and then he had stopped.

They had dismounted in silence, and he hadn't looked at her as he had turned away from her and moved to the edge of the lake, where he had sat down on a boulder. She had followed him, but stopped a good distance away.

When he had stood up with her name on his lips, he had wanted to have it out with her at last, but then he had remembered the look of shock and mild dismay on her face when he had pulled her out of the castle, and his suspicion had hardened into certainty. He had confronted her with it, she had admitted to having set up a machine to destroy the castle, and from there the conversation had moved down familiar lines.

Her gratitude for his help had surprised him, though. Normally she bristled at even a hint that she might not be able to take care of herself, standing up fiercely for the 'encroachment of her indepencence' as she called it, but her smile had been genuine as she had thanked him.

He looked away first, staring off into the trees that surrounded them, and a long moment passed before he felt her tentatively slip her hand into his.

'Gwendal,' she said softly, 'can't we go back to the way we were?' Her voice gew lower, and it was filled with pain now. 'These past few days have been horrible. I've missed you so much.'

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening on her hand a fraction. 'It'll take a while,' he said gruffly, not meeting her eyes, and then he felt her lean into him, her relief apparent in the way she clutched at his hand.

'I love you, Gwendal,' she said softly, turning her face into his shoulder, and he nodded, unable to reply. He leaned his head onto hers and closed his eyes, enjoying the moment as it stretched out between them.

It wouldn't be easy, much had been said and done between them. They would get through this, though, he was sure of it.

* * *

A/N: Many thanks for reading, any and all concrit is very welcome. =)


	19. Full Circle: Wind, Water, Fire, Earth

**Title:** Full Circle: Wind, Water, Fire, Earth  
**Word Count:** 2,500  
**Rating:** PG  
**Any Warnings:** Spoilers for episode 89.  
**Prompt being used:** Fire, Wind, Water, Earth  
**Timeline:** Set sometime during season three, post episode 89.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

Follows from 'Questions and Answers'. You'll have to have read that for this make any kind of sense.

* * *

_Wind: Blow Hot, Blow Cold_

'Gwendal!'

He turned at the sound of her voice, waiting for Anissina as she ran down the long corridor towards him.

'Gwendal—I—'

She gave up, laying a hand on her chest as she gasped for breath, and he crossed his arms as he waited for her to speak.

'Gwendal,' she said finally, 'why have you been avoiding me? And I'm serious, so don't tell me it's because of my inventions.'

'Come, this is better discussed in private,' he said, taking her by the elbow and drawing her into the room across from them.

Once the door was safely shut behind them, he turned to see that she had come closer now, her hand on his sleeve and her face turned up to him.

'Gwendal, I realise you're a very busy man, and all these developments with King Saralegui are really not helping, but it seems like I hardly ever see you anymore! I know you came to visit me when I was in my knitting class with the maids, but when I came to find you afterwards, Gunter told me you were busy, and I _know_ he was lying.' Her hand tightened on his arm. 'You said you wanted to get past this, that you wanted to try again—'

'Anissina, you have to understand that things won't go back to the way they were just because _you_ suddenly wish it,' he bit out, staring down at her challengingly. She blinked up at him in shock, and he hardened his heart against the sudden hurt that flashed across her face.

He could not waver now, she had to be made to understand just how deeply _he_ had been hurt by her, just how big an obstacle this was for them to overcome. She said nothing for a long moment, her eyes turning dull with what looked like despair.

'You do still love me, don't you, Gwendal?'

And it was that question, that forlorn tone in her voice that had him pulling her closer without conscious thought.

'Of course I do,' he said, his hand moving to cup her cheek. Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and she raised her own hand to press his fingers to her face as she shut her eyes.

'I'm—I'm so glad.'

Her voice broke on the words, and it was pure instinct, this desire to draw her closer and press his lips to hers. She remained frozen in surprise for a heartbeat, and then she was pressing closer with a muffled sound of satisfaction, her hands clutching at him as she opened her mouth under his and stroked his tongue with her own—

With a gasp, he caught her by the shoulders and set her aside. Anissina gave a wordless cry of protest, swaying in his grasp, and he stepped quickly away from her, his heart pounding.

'I _do_ still love you, Anissina, but I can't—do this yet—' he ground out, shaking his head as turned away from her incredulous face.

She was still staring at him as he opened the door and slipped out, slamming it shut in his haste to get away from her.

--

_Water: Come Hell or High Water_

Anissina cut her eyes to the right, where Gwendal sat, chewing his dinner as if the scene of this morning had not happened between them.

It had only been three days ago that he had helped her out of her arranged marriage - even after she had turned his own proposal of marriage down - and she had thought that they had been able to come to an understanding between them. She had been _so_ relieved when he had said that he wasn't going to give up on them, but there hadn't been much time to discuss anything more that night and they had ridden back to the castle in silence, her arms tight around his middle, one of his hands warm on her own.

In the days that followed, though, it seemed like he was never there when she went to his office, and when she did catch him, he was always too busy to come out with her for a ride, and the one night she had tried to lead him into her bedroom, he had pulled away with the excuse of a large pile of paperwork left pending.

Gwendal had always had his pride, and she realised that she had hurt it by her reaction to his proposal, so she had only gritted her teeth and perservered, hoping that he would eventually forgive her.

But when she had approached him this morning he had pushed her away, and that had stung more than she let on. It was only to be expected, of course, after everything that had happened between them, but she hadn't expected him to react so strongly. It seemed her actions had affected him far more than he cared to admit. She had to find some way to reach him, but it was difficult when he preferred to act as if nothing was wrong.

Even now, Gwendal sat beside her like he always did, a silent observer of the lively conversation that occurred all around them. He hadn't said a word to her all through the meal, and once he was done, he left the table just as silently.

She lost her appetite after that, and the rest of the meal became a blur.

Now, she sat in her lab, wondering what was to be done next.

They had had their share of fights, and they had always come through it, but what Gwendal wanted _now_ would set them back about a hundred steps in their relationship, and she couldn't allow that, not when she had come so close to losing him altogether.

If he was reluctant, well then, it was up to her to make him change his mind.

Which wouldn't have been a problem if it had only been a simple difference of opinion between them, she would've delighted in arguing and debating the point with Gwendal—they had often spent their evenings discussing the laws he wanted the Maou to pass—but this was different, this would be a _seduction_.

And she was admittedly lacking the skills required to seduce Gwendal into giving up his pride and coming back to her bed.

With a sigh, Anissina pushed her chair back from her countertop and stood up. If she could've avoided this, she would have, but there really was no other way. It had to be done, and so she would do it _right_.

Taking a deep breath, she strode out of her lab and toward Lady Celi's rooms. Her heart pounded harder the closer she got to her destination, with the thought of what Gwendal's mother would say once she found out about them. It would be awfully sudden, she'd just be dumping this on the other woman without even a warning—

She was knocking on the door before she could talk herself out of it, and it opened a moment later.

'Anissina!' Lady Celi smiled and ushered her inside, and she followed the older woman inside, jumping a little when the door clicked shut behind her. 'I'm so glad you're here,' Lady Celi said, making her way to her wardrobe and pulling the doors open so that the late morning light shone down on the rows of dresses, gowns and various other garments it held. 'Fanfan has asked me to come visit him again, and I need to pack—but I really can't decide if I should just order a new winter wardrobe altogether, these are all atleast a year old—'

'Lady Celi, I'm in love with Gwendal.'

There was a beat of silence, and she could feel herself going alternately hot and cold as she waited…

'Oh. That.' She blinked at Lady Celi as the woman waved a hand dismissively. 'I knew about that a long time ago, dear, you needn't worry about _that_. Now tell me, what do you think of this jacket? Too much fur? Too little?'

'Lady Celi!'

Lady Celi looked up at that, her eyebrows rising in surprise. 'Anissina, my dear, what's wrong?' She must have seen something in her face then, because she dropped her carefree attitude and stepped quickly to her side, taking her by the hands. 'Come here,' she clucked, leading her to a little table that stood in one corner of the room. 'Now, tell me everything.'

And ordinarily Anissina would have died a thousand deaths before revealing something so private, but the events of the past few weeks had left her so muddled that she found herself confessing all.

'I see,' Lady Celi said half an hour later. 'So now you need my help with Gwendal,' she mused, clasping her hands together as she turned her head and peered into her wardrobe from where she sat. 'Well then, it's a good thing we're almost the same size, because I have the _perfect_ thing for you!'

'Do you really think a new _dress_ will make much of a difference?' she asked, staring at the older woman skeptically.

'Hmm, perhaps you're right,' Lady Celi replied, frowning. 'Now that I think about it, Gwendal isn't really the type who'd be won over by something like that. He's like his father that way.' A moment of silence followed, before Lady Celi gave a a cry of delight and clapped her hands together. 'I've got it!'

'But you just agreed that a dress won't—'

'Oh, this isn't a dress,' Lady Celi smiled, shaking her head. 'This is a _surefire_ way to get his attention.'

'Do you really think it'll work?'

'Anissina, I guarantee that with this, he won't be able to resist—come hell or high water,' Lady Celi giggled. 'Now, what you do is…'

--

_Fire: Flashpoint_

'Gwendal, it's late, and I'm _tired_, can I _please_ go now?'

That had been half an hour ago, when the Maou had met 'his breaking point', and had begged to be set free of paperwork. He had not had the heart to insist that the boy stay, though it was by rights His Majesty's job to sign the rest of the agreements and edicts and annnouncements.

Heaving a sigh, he dropped his quill to flex his fingers. Gunter had long since called it a night, shaking his head at him as he had closed the door behind him. He had just picked up the quill again when there was a knock on his door. The candle on his table guttered and went out when the door was swung open without his permission, and he made a sound of annoyance.

'Gwendal, you really need to learn to loosen up a little!'

Ignoring the newcomer, he quickly relit the candle and continued where he had left off on his paperwork. His mother was not to be dettered, however, and the sound of her heels tapping on the floor was quickly followed by her hand slamming down on the papers before him. He jumped, looking up with a frown.

'Mother—'

'No buts, Gwendal, now pack up everything and get going! It's past your bedtime and if you dawdle any more you'll have no jam for tea tomorrow!'

He blinked, and a smile fought its way to his lips despite himself. It had been _years_ since he had heard those words from her; she grinned at him when he lost the battle with his amusement and started laughing.

'Mother, I'm nearly a hundred and fifty years old now, I don't even _like_ jam any more.'

'But it's still past your bed time,' she rejoined with a smile. 'All this boring paperwork will still be here tomorrow.'

'Mother, I really do need to—'

'Gwendal.'

She seemed to be in one of her rare stubbornly whimsical moods, at such times it was best to just go along with her. With a nod, he pushed his chair back and accompanied her out of the room, locking the door behind him as he went.

'Good night, Mother.'

'Straight to bed, now!' his mother admonished him, watching as he walked away from her, and he wondered whether she expected him to sneak back to the office when her back was turned. The thought made him smile, and he was shaking his head at his family when he opened the door to his bedroom.

The moonlight shone down on his bed through the gap in his curtains as he sat down and tugged his boots off, letting them fall to the floor with muffled thumps. He had just pulled his hair free of its tie when there was a movement behind him, and he sprang to his feet, his sword in his hand in the next moment.

'You took so long,' a sleepy voice said reproachfully, and he blinked when a long arm snaked out of the covers and latched onto his sleeve. 'Come to bed now, Gwendal.'

'Anissina?'

There was no reply, and he tugged at his sword belt, undoing it fully and leaving it on his nightstand before reaching for the bundle of covers and sheets in the middle of his bed.

'Anissina, I thought I told you—'

His words died when he pulled the sheets aside and saw Anissina—dressed only in one of his shirts. She blinked at the movement, sitting up to stretch her body slowly, catching one of his hands and trying to tug him down to her again.

'Anissina—'

'Please, Gwendal, won't you forgive me?' she asked, looking up at him beseechingly. 'You don't know how many times I've wished I could take back what I said and did that day, especially because I was so happy that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me.'

She didn't give him a chance to reply, she rose up and pressed her mouth to his, and this time, he couldn't find it in him to resist.

_--_

_Earth: On Solid Ground_

'You really hurt me, Anissina.'

The low words startled her, especially because she lay half on and half off Gwendal, his arm around her and her head on his shoulder. He had been the one to draw her close, as they had lain there panting in the aftermath of their passion, and she had assumed that everything had been more or less resolved between them.

'I know,' she replied, squeezing her eyes shut, and wondering morosely how long she would have to keep paying for the one mistake she had made.

'You hurt me,' he repeated, 'but I think I can finally start moving past that now.'

The tension left her in a rush, her heart soaring in relief as she tightened her arm around his waist. 'I'm glad,' she said simply, 'because I wouldn't have given up on you, Gwendal, I love you too much.'

She felt his lips press against her forehead, and he hugged her closer.

'Go to sleep now,' he said softly. 'Everything's going to be better tomorrow.'

She pushed herself up on her elbow to kiss him again before snuggling back into his side. 'Good night, Gwendal.'

'Good night, Anissina.'

* * *

A/N: Thanks very much for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)


	20. Spring Fever

**Title:** Spring Fever  
**Word Count:** 1,330  
**Rating:** PG  
**Any Warnings:** None.  
**Prompt being used:** Spring  
**Timeline:** Sometime in Season three.  
**Summary: **Whenever it was spring, things turned…strange in Shin Makoku.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Spring was in the air.

While Gwendal would normally have nothing against the change of the seasons, it was a fact that whenever it was spring, things turned…strange in Shin Makoku.

Dakoskos started to go around the castle singing, and while that was not something to be feared ordinarily, Gwendal did find it a cause for concern when the man seemed to address his love songs to horses in general, and Ao in particular.

The court was not exempt, either, the Nobles being every bit susceptible to the seasonal madness as everyone else. His mother was already on her neverending tour for free love, but this time, she had taken some of the Noble women with her. Their husbands were following, and the last he had heard, no one had been convinced to return home.

With all the madness in the air, he wasn't _really_ surprised when his sanctuary was invaded by a very familiar distraction.

'I need your help.'

Gwendal blinked at the sudden stack of paper that was shoved under his nose, looking up to meet Anissina's eyes. He had a rare free evening, what with the Maou back on his own world, and he had been enjoying a bottle of his favourite wine as he had relaxed in the comfort of the castle's large library.

'What do you need?'

'_A Deconstruction of Opello_—really, Gwendal, if I didn't have _personal _insight on the matter, I'd swear you were incapable of loosening up at all,' Anissina was saying now, ignoring his question to lean forward and riffle through the pages of the book he was reading with her free hand. 'A night off and _this_ is what you choose to read?' She let the book in her hands fall as she shook her head in mock sadness. 'Luckily for you, though, help is at hand!' She brandished the sheaf of paper before him again, and he jerked back to avoid it hitting his nose.

'Anissina, I won't ask you again. What _is_ it that you want from me?'

'This is my latest story,' she explained, smiling at him as if she were conferring a great honour on him. 'And I need you to take a look at it and tell me what you think.'

'I thought you had the maids for that,' he said dimissively, turning away from her—as far as he was able—in his chair and picking up his book again. He did not expect her to give up—he had known her too well and too long for that—but he could not help the vain hope that had prompted the action.

She lived up to his expectations, of course.

The book was snatched out of his grasp, and the paper was suddenly thrust into his hands. 'Anissina-'

'It's for Greta,' she said, stilling his protests. 'She begged to have a sequel to my last story, and I need you to tell me if it's any good. I'd hate to disappoint her.'

Dammit, he hated it when she used his weaknesses against him.

'Alright,' he sighed, ignoring the way Anissina's smile widened.

'Wonderful!' she crowed, moving to take an armchair across from him. 'Now, you do the male protagonist's part.'

'And who will you be?'

'The Poison Lady, of course!'

_Of course_. He really should've guessed. Gwendal rolled his eyes as he turned his attention to the story in his hands.

And started to sputter. '_Wild Nights_?' he read aloud. 'You're writing a story called 'Wild Nights' for a _child_?'

'Get your mind out of the gutter,' Anissina snapped, rolling her eyes at him. 'It's called _Wild_ Nights because it's set in a jungle. And I told you, this is what Greta wanted! Now, start reading.'

Shaking his head, Gwendal bent his head to the sheets before him again, and cleared his throat.

'_Posion Lady, I have loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you. Your—_' He broke off, clearing his throat again, and willing the heat in his ears to recede. 'I can't do this, Anissina.'

'Hmm. I think I see the problem. It's not real enough this way.' She stood up before his stunned eyes, and affected a pose. 'I think it'll be easier for you to get in character, as it were, if we act it out, too.'

'Anissina—'

'Don't be a spoilsport, Gwendal,' she sniffed disapprovingly as she caught him by the hand and urged him to his feet.

'Anissina—'

'Alright then, since it's such a problem for you, we'll skip ahead to the next page. I'll get started for you.'

'_I'm so happy you feel that way about me, Prince Gwendal,' the Poison Lady said, smiling at him as a tear fell from her eye._ Now your turn, Gwendal.'

After a long sigh, he gave in, reading out the lines. He refused to take her hand, though, despite her clear hints that he act out his line. There _was_ a limit to what he could be made to do.

'_I assure you, my feelings are genuine, Poison Lady Anissina', Prince Gwendal said. 'My royal mother wishes me to wed a princess, but I cannot cast aside my love for you. I shall have you and no other!' he declared._'

'_But we cannot!_,' Anissina cried, turning her face away from him in exaggerated sorrow as he rolled his eyes at her melodrama. '_I cannot allow you to break your parents' heart like this!_'

Greta actually _liked_ this sort of thing?

'_I do not live for my parents', Prince Gwendal declared, passionately taking the Poison Lady in his arms_—oh, alright—' he grunted, giving into Anissina's nods of the head that indicated he should act out this part. He put his arm around Anissina's waist, and fumbling for the papers he now held behind her, resumed from where he had left off.

'_I do not live for my parents', Prince Gwendal declared, passionately taking the Poison Lady in his arms. 'I live for myself._'

'_If that is the case, I shall not hesitate either,' she replied_.

He looked down again, trying to make out what his next line was—

And blinked when he felt Anissina's left hand come into contact with his cheek. For a moment, they stared at each other in silence, and then:

'That's not part of the story,' he said stupidly.

'I know,' she replied, giving a nervous little laugh. 'In fact, the story's just nonsense. It's not for Greta at all, it's the only way I could screw up the courage to do this, and let me tell you that your silence is not helping—'

She fell silent when his hand came up to rest on her cheek, his thumb pressing her lips closed. 'Don't ruin the moment,' he muttered, replacing his thumb with his own mouth.

A long moment later, he drew away to look down at her closed eyes and smiling lips. 'Does this mean you don't think the Women's Movement will lose its symbol if you get married?'

She shook her head, her hand tightening on his shoulder. 'I was wrong. I know that now.'

His smile widened, and as he leaned down to her again, she smartly side stepped.

'What—'

'I've spent my whole life chasing you, Gwendal,' she said, bounding to the library door and throwing it open. She tossed the paper in her hand into the air with a delighted smile. 'Now it's your turn!'

The door slammed behind her, and he heard a loud, startled exclamation. Gunter entered the room a moment later, raising an eyebrow as he stared down the corridor.

'What in Shinou's name has gotten into Lady Anissina?' he asked, tutting as he carefully stepped around the paper lining the floor.

Gwendal did not answer, dropping the paper in his own hand as he made his way to the door.

'Which way did she go?'

Gunter pointed wordlessly, and shook his head as he heard Gwendal's footsteps pound after Lady Anissina.

Really, spring turned everyone in the castle _strange_.

* * *

A/N: Not _quite _what I wanted to write, but then I'm just happy to be writing KKM again. :P

Many thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome. :)


	21. White Lace and Promises

**Title:** White Lace and Promises  
**Word Count:** 1,060  
**Rating:** PG-13  
**Any Warnings:** Schmoopiness ahead.  
**Prompt being used:** Future  
**Timeline:** Post S3  
**Summary:** Gwendal and Anissina make their relationship 'legal'.

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

'She already _knew_?'

He stared at Anissina, who looked back at him in equal surprise.

'Didn't she tell you?' Anissina's mouth twisted in amusement. 'You should've told me you were planning to meet with her...'

Gwendal shook his head, stunned into speechlessness. So _this_ was what he got for wanting to spare Anissina his mother's hysterics.

He had been dreading this conversation for _months_, afraid of how his mother would react to the news that he had kept his relationship with Anissina a secret from her.

And she had behaved exactly as he'd expected, going off into tears and bemoaning the fact that her first born didn't see fit to share his happiness with her until he was no longer able to hide it.

Panicked, he had promised her she could announce the engagement and conduct the wedding ceremony however she saw fit, and had been relieved when the words had managed to appease her.

He _had_ wondered about the gleam of delight in her eyes when she had smiled at him once her tears were finally dammed, but he had put it down to simple happiness at the news that he would be getting married.

_Now_, though, he knew better.

--

The tears in her brother's eyes would have been insulting, if she hadn't been equally happy.

As it was, she had only just managed to stop Densham from blubbering all over Gwendal in his relief that she would finally be getting married. Harried as he was by his own family, Anissina wasn't too sure Gwendal would have been able to take it too well.

Though they had never had the best of relationships between them—the fact that Densham was too narrow minded and just too _stupid_ to understand half of her inventions had been a definite drawback—he was genuinely happy for her, she could see that.

And so she only gritted her teeth and bit down her angry response to his harebrained questions of whether she would give up her Movement for the Emancipation of Women once she was married.

After all, Gwendal understood her. He had not asked her to change in any way after the marriage—he had never imposed on her in that way, she could see now, not _once_ in their long and tumultous relationship—and he had made it quite clear to her that he loved her exactly as she was.

And really, that was enough for her.

--

'So, the rumor mill was right, for once?'

Gwendal turned, and glared at the man behind him. Yozak Gurrier was made of sterner stuff, however, and did not flinch. 'You really are marrying Lady Anissina?'

'Yes,' he said shortly, turning away and continuing to walk down the corridor.

'Your Excellency, your office is the other way.'

He ignored the other man, even as Yozak continued to shadow him. He would _not_ be returning to his office.

So far, Wolfram had come by to scream at him for springing his engagement on them so suddenly—'_I_ wanted to get married first, I've been engaged longer than you have!'—the Maou had stammered and stuttered his way through his congratulatory speech, His Eminence Murata Ken had decided to take on the role of Anissina's guardian and had had a talk with him about his 'intentions toward the good Lady'—and he was still dreading to see what his _other_ brother had in store for him…

If he remembered Conrart's sense of humor, it would be—

He stopped, and stared, even as Yozak began to laugh behind him.

'Ah, Gwendal,' Conrart was saying, with that infuriating twinkle in his eye, 'Mother couldn't decide what kind of flower to have at the wedding.' He brandished the bouquet in front of him, and Gwendal closed his eyes in horror. 'So of course I told her she _had_ to use _Secret Gwendal_.'

--

'You would think she'd spare _her own son_!'

Anissina bit her lip as Gwendal paced, and tried very, very hard not to laugh. He would hotly deny it if she pointed it out, but the fact was that the Commander of the Mazoku Army, His Excellency Gwendal von Voltaire, was _whining_.

He had tried to wriggle out of his hasty promise to his mother, but Lady Celi could be very firm when she wanted to be, and she had absolutely _refused_ to let Gwendal go back on his word of allowing her to arrange his wedding the way she wanted.

And she had started by planning a lavish ball to announce the engagement.

Gwendal hated dancing.

People _stared_—'especially _women'_—he'd grumbled to her once, back in the days when they'd been younger and had been forced by their respective families to attend more balls than either of them could count.

Of course, he had never figured out that he cut quite a dashing figure in his formal outfits.

And while she wasn't too fond of dancing herself, at least she'd get a chance to see Gwendal in tailcoats again, Anissina thought, hiding her grin as he continued to fret.

--

Later, he found he couldn't remember much of it.

There had been a great deal of confusion and noise, as usual. Important items needed for the ceremony were misplaced, the maids were constantly bursting into tears at the idea of their beloved Lady Anssina getting married, Gunter had gone into hysterics at least twice, and the Maou had nearly been sucked back into his own world at one point.

Somehow, though, at the most important moment, there was no confusion and no hesitation, and when the Maou asked him if he would take Lady Anissina von Khrennikov to wife, Gwendal's voice was clear and sure as he answered that he would.

And in the light in Anissina's eyes as she smiled at him, he suddenly saw his future—filled with laughter and fights and passion and arguments and companionship and _love_—and his vision blurred as she took her own vows.

Then they were kissing, and the room erupted in cheers, Yozak was clapping him on the back as he pulled away from _his wife_, and Conrart was smiling as he hugged 'the new Lady von Voltaire', his mother's happy tears were soaking his shirt as she crushed him to her chest and the Maou looked on with a grin—

And the rest of his life began.

* * *

A/N: My ability to write saccharine, let me show you it. :P

Anyway, many thanks for reading, all comments and concrit is very welcome. :)


	22. What He Doesn't Know

**Title:** What He Doesn't Know...  
**Word Count:** 720  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Fluff ahoy!  
**Prompt being used:** Word prompt: sick  
**Timeline:** Very post Season 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Long go, when Anissina had decided to start the Movement for the Emancipation of Women, she had realised that the first thing she had to do was to learn the enemy.

The logical solution, of course, was to glean as much as she could from an expert.

One of the first few things Lady Celi told her was, '_No matter how old a man may be, how accomplished and how skilled, when he falls sick, he reverts to a child._'

Anissina had only nodded politely then, not believing that it could be true.

She knew better now.

--

It had started, as always, as a battle of wills between them.

'Gwendal, you're sick.'

'Anissina, it's just a simple sniffle, if I leave it alone for a few days it should be _fine_.'

She looked at him warily. His nose was pink, but other than that, he _seemed_ fine. Certainly there was no indication that he had been coughing only a few minutes earlier.

'You're sure?' she persisted, still frowning at his overbright eyes, but he only nodded. 'Well then, I guess you're well enough to test out my latest invention, then?'

Ignoring his groan of protest, she tugged him to his feet and out of his office.

--

That had been three days ago.

Today, she had been woken by the sound of Gwendal nearly hacking his lungs up. Startled, she had watched as he had coughed and coughed before finally falling back to the bed in exhaustion. Reaching out a careful hand, she had laid it against his forehead, and her eyes had widened in shock.

'Gwendal, you're burning up!'

He had tried to protest again, saying that he just needed a lie-in, but she had sent a maid for Gisela, who had pronounced him sick, and in need of at least two days rest.

And that had been that.

--

'Anissina!'

With a muffled sigh of exasperation, she got to her feet.

Gwendal needed someone to sit with him, and so here she was. Now that they had moved into their new rooms, her laboratory wasn't as close by as it had been before. Bringing her latest invention into the room with her was out of the question, and she'd had to make do with drawing up plans for another one.

'Yes, Gwendal?'

He really was a pitiful sight, curled up in bed with the covers drawn to his chest, nose pink and his eyes red. Even as she watched, he let out a great sneeze, though he tried unsuccessfully to smother it in his handkerchief.

'Can I have something warm to drink, please?'

Moved by the mournful look in his eyes, she nodded, tenderly passing a hand over his hair.

Her empathy quickly faded away, however, when he asked her to change the flavour of the soup. For the _fifth_ time. After tasting only _one_ spoon.

'It tastes _terrible_, Anissina,' he was whining now. 'Can't you talk to the cook about it? The soup that Mother used to bring me whenever I was sick tasted better, somehow.'

And because she was an example to all others, because women were _above_ venting their anger through boorish, brutish behaviour—like force-feeding a sick man soup—Anissina only gritted her teeth and nodded.

She did, however, begin to make Plans.

--

'Anissina?'

This time, Gwendal's voice was much clearer, and when she drew close to the bed, she saw that he was sitting up now. She put a hand to his forehead, and he smiled up at her.

'I feel much better now, Anissina.' A pause, and then: 'Thank you for taking care of me,' he added, taking her hand in his.

'Oh, it was nothing, Gwendal,' she assured him, squeezing his hand in return. 'Rest now, I'll just go tell the maids to send you up something to eat.'

He nodded, sliding back under the sheets, and she tucked the covers more securely around him, feeling generous enough to lay a soft kiss against his forehead.

Gwendal was smiling as he drifted off to sleep again, and Anissina grinned herself as she threw an affectionate glance at her latest invention—and her saviour of these past few days, 'Out-Like-A-Light-kun'—virtually tasteless and water soluble, and 'a real boon to the medical field', as Gisela had called it.

* * *

  
A/N: So I've been feeling a little sniffly. I should not write when I'm on meds, I now realise. :P

Thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is welcome! =)


	23. Words and Actions

**Title:** Words and Actions  
**Word Count:** 1,700  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** None, really.  
**Prompt being used:** Word prompt: love  
**Timeline:** Very post Season 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

_They were neither of them people to say the words often—or even out loud._

--

'What, never? You mean, really—_never_?'

Anissina cocked an eyebrow at her brother's incredulous lover, who was wide-eyed in disbelief. Restraining herself from rolling her eyes openly, she shook her head.

'Not _never_,' she said, 'but not often, either. Gwendal isn't the kind of person to say the words 'I love you' to me. And I don't really feel I'm missing out on anything, to be honest,' she went on. 'We don't need to say the words to each other to know that it's true.'

'_Well!_ I don't think _I_ could do that. And I'd definitely expect Densham to be the same. Wouldn't I, love?'

This last was directed at her brother, who had just entered the room. He looked around confusedly at the two of them, having missed their conversation. He broke out into a smile a moment later, though, immediately crossing the room to sit with his lover.

'So what are you both talking about?'

Anissina watched her brother as the other man spoke, and it was clear Densham wasn't really paying attention, his eyes kept drifting to his lover's mouth as he spoke. She suppressed a sigh, almost instantly realising that _this_ would not be a permanent relationship in her brother's life—like so many others before it.

Almost unbidden, she remembered the night before, when Gwendal had spent nearly half an hour telling her all about the current problems in Small Cimarron and how her suggestion to Gunter the month previous had been of great help.

Looking at her brother now, Anissina shook her head to herself.

Really, how could these two say they were in love when they couldn't even be bothered to actually _listen_ to each other?

--

When Gwendal finally had time to read the letter he had received late that afternoon, it was already night. Having seen that it was personal correspondence—from one of his more distant cousins—he had set it aside for later, when his work was all done.

Now, it was later, and he sat at the desk in his rooms, frowning as he re-read the letter. Anissina brushed her hair in the mirror behind him, already in her nightgown.

'What is it?'

'Hmmm?'

A moment later, footsteps sounded behind him, and he felt Anissina lean over his shoulder as she read the letter, too. 'Oh, that's wonderful!' she cried when she was halfway through, and he raised mystified eyes to her.

'You know what this is all about?'

'Of course! Nikolai's mother had been worried about him because he hadn't been showing any interest in his studies, and he is to take over the family business soon, so I recommended a tutor to her. Looks like it worked!'

A small silence followed as Anissina read the rest of the letter, her smile growing wider as she did so.

'My cousin has a son named Nikolai?'

'Hmm?'

Gwendal folded the letter closed, forcing Anissina to meet his eyes. 'Anissina, what exactly is going on? I didn't even know my cousin _had_ a son.'

In reply, Anissina huffed an affectionate—if exasperated—laugh, moving around to lean a hip against his desk. 'Which was precisely why I handled it on my own. You're busy enough with King Yuuri as it is, I can take care of things like this.'

'But Anissina, it's my duty to _make_ time for things like this,' he told her, troubled now. 'They're my family.'

'Gwendal, now they're _my_ family, too, remember?' she said, leaning forward to tap a finger against his forehead. 'It's only natural for me to take up some of the von Voltaire work. Now, stop worrying and come to bed, or you'll get new wrinkles.'

He blinked at her before coming to the conclusion that like so many of Anissina's other suggestions, this one really was what was best for him at this moment.

Which was why, when she tugged on his hand, he silently abandoned the rest of his paperwork and followed her to bed.

--

She slid out of bed as carefully as she could, hoping to avoid disturbing Gwendal.

It worked. He slumbered on, only turning on his side as she crawled away from him and out of the tangle of blankets. She winced as her bare feet touched the cold stone floor, suppressing the reflex to jerk her leg away. The movement would surely wake Gwendal, and she'd never hear the end of it if one her experiments was responsible for disturbing his slumber.

Gwendal was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, only managing to rise early every day through sheer, dogged bloody-mindedness, taking a grim sort of satisfaction in overriding his body's protests for more sleep.

Which was why he could be an absolute _bear_ if he was woken up in the middle of the night for no good reason.

And Anissina knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would consider one of her experiments a _terrible_ reason, indeed.

Her foot had become acccustomed to the cold now, and she used it to scrabble around for the rug. Having found it, she eased herself off the bed and onto the rug, shrugging on her clothes in the half-light provided by the dying fire in their fireplace.

She made for the door, closing it quietly behind her. She'd tell Gwendal about this particular alloy only if it worked as it should, but for that she needed to go and mix the metals _now_. If she'd estimated correctly, they would have just finished melting, and would be at the perfect temperature. Any later and it would be useless.

An hour later, when she eased the door to their bedroom open again, tired but satisfied, Anissina winced again at the thought of getting back into her now cold side of the bed. Well, if it was the price for her science…

She had just shucked off her clothes and slid into bed again when her feet encountered something blissfully warm. Blinking in surprise, she pressed her feet more fully against it, enjoying the warmth as she snuggled comfortably into the blankets. Gwendal had placed a brick from the fireplace under the blankets, she realised. So that it would be warm enough when she returned to bed.

An arm came around her waist, and she snuggled back into his chest, but Gwendal only mumbled: 'Cold?'

'Not any more,' she replied, turning to press a kiss to his mouth. Perhaps she should show him just _how_ grateful she really was…

--

It took a full minute for him to realise that someone was knocking at the door, so deeply was he concentrating.

When the door finally swung open, Anissina stood in the doorway, a frown on her face and a tray in her hands. The smell of spices drifted to him, and his stomach clenched, reminding him abruptly that he had skipped lunch.

More than the fact that she had somehow found out that he had skipped a meal, it surprised him that she had brought him dinner, seeing as they were in the middle of a terrible fight since the previous night.

He expected a tirade—along the lines of how he never took care of himself, how _she_ always had to do it for him, but then of course he was a _man_, and too stupid to know any better—he was braced for one, in fact, but Anissina remained silent as she strode over to him, waiting until he hastily cleared his papers away before placing the tray in the middle of his desk.

Gwendal watched as Anissina raised the lid of the dish before him, the delicious spicy smell growing stronger. When he saw his favourite spiced meat rolls before him, he almost winced in guilt.

And still Anissina said nothing to him.

This silent treatment was beginning to get to him.

'Anissina, I'm sorry,' he tried, catching her hand when she would have moved away. 'You didn't have to do this for me, I would've—'

'Eat.'

He nodded, hastily raising the glass of wine she had brought for him to his lips. He ate quickly, feeling unaccountably more and more nervous the longer Anissina remained silent. He wasn't used to this chill disapproval from her, she was more the type to rage and rant at him when he did something to annoy her.

It humbled him, that she would have cared enough to bring him dinner when they were in the middle of a fight like this.

She waited until he was done, taking the tray back from him without a word, and was nearly at the door before he was able to scrape his chair back and dash after her.

The paperwork would wait. He had more important things to attend to, right now.

_--_

_They were neither of them people to say the words often—or even out loud—but they made do, somehow._

* * *

A/N: Heh. I kinda enjoyed this one. :)

Thanks for reading, all comment and concrit is very welcome!


	24. Pillow Talk

**Title:** Pillow Talk  
**Word Count:** 1,090  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Fluff ahoy!  
**Prompt being used:** Word prompt: pillows  
**Timeline:** Very post Season 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

There had to be a more wearying way of spending an evening, she was sure of it.

Unfortunately, though, she couldn't think of any of them right now.

And really, was it absolutely _necessary_ for the woman to ramble on about 'the family' and their importance in Shin Makoku, and a hundred other utterly pointless things?

Anissina shifted in her seat, and tried again—unsuccessfully—to pay attention to whatever Gwendal's aunt was saying.

It didn't help that she was six months pregnant, and _very_ uncomfortable.

Thankfully, Lady Brischela chose that moment to conclude, and a maid appeared at Anissina's elbow to refill her glass of water for the toast. It irked her that she could no longer enjoy wine with the rest of the ladies, and she tamped down her irritation as she picked up her glass.

'You _are_ enjoying yourself, aren't you, Lady Anissina?'

She looked up to see Nicola looking at her worriedly. 'Of course,' she lied, giving the other woman a smile. Nicola had thought she was doing something nice for her, there was no need to take out her frustrations on the woman. 'Of course I'm enjoying myself,' she repeated, stronger this time. 'Thank you so much for arranging this baby shower for me.'

'I'm glad,' Nicola said with a relieved smile. 'When Hube heard I was planning this, he wasn't very encouraging,' she went on, frowning darkly at the memory. 'He said you wouldn't like it, but of course he was wrong. Who wouldn't want to celebrate the birth of their first child, I said, and I was right, wasn't I? I remember when I—'

Nicola went off on another one of the 'pregnancy stories', and Anissina heaved a short, sharp sigh that went unnoticed. It seemed that the past six months had been dominated entirely by someone who wasn't even _born_ yet. And the way the others went on about this child, she sometimes feared the rest of her life would be defined entirely by her motherhood.

It was especially worse with the old matriarchs from Gwendal's family. They were so sure she carried 'the von Voltaire heir' that she was actually afraid of having a daughter. The poor thing would be crushed by the weight of the collective disappointment she would have to bear.

Lady Celi had been a little better about it—perhaps because they had known each other for so long, and she was able to fathom something of Anissina's feelings on the matter—but to the assorted cousins of the von Voltaire family, all that mattered was that she was the woman who would give birth to Gwendal's child. Women she had gotten along with perfectly well before the pregnancy—talking about politics and art and even gardening—would now speak of nothing else but babies and mothering tips and baby names.

It was enough to drive _anyone_ up the wall.

Which was why when she was finally able to retire for the night, Anissina was an explosion just waiting to happen.

Unfortunately for him, Gwendal was not aware of this.

'Did you have fun?'

It had been a simple question, asked absently as he had shrugged off his uniform and gotten into bed next to her, but to Anissina, it had been the last straw.

A good fifteen minutes of ranting later, Gwendal blinked as she wound down with: '—and in all this, no one really cares what _I_ think! I realise that your family is excited that they may finally have a boy in the family after five generations, but sometimes I feel that all I am to them is a walking womb! I suspect they wouldn't have cared _who_ you married, as long as you had a child! The only thing they see when they look at me is the woman carrying the von Voltaire heir! And another thing, why can't your _daughter_ be your heir? You know women can do anything that men can do!'

Finally done, Anissina crossed her arms, and turned away from him on the bed. Gwendal stared at her back for a moment, watching as she made vague sounds of annoyance and fidgeted, trying to become comfortable. Silently, he reached under the bed, rooting around for what he had put there only that moring. Perhaps _this_ would be the best time to give it to her…

When Anissina rolled over again, he took the opportunity to quickly place it under her back. 'Gwendal, what—' Her angry voice faded as her tired back relaxed against the little pillow, and the scowl on her face cleared.

'I saw that you were having problems getting to sleep,' he said softly, leaning forward to brush her hair out of her face. She looked up at him at that, the anger gone, now just looking scared and nervous and anxious.

'Gwendal, I love you, but this child cannot define the rest of my life,' she told him seriously. 'You know that, right?'

He almost rolled his eyes at that, but restrained himself, though only just. 'Anissina,' he said, trying to inject some patience into his tone, 'I know that. Believe it or not, I did _not_ marry you just so that you could provide my family with an heir. And I do not expect you to change anything about yourself just because you are having our child.'

'But your aunt said—'

'I am going to ask you a very simple question here, Anissina. Do you see my aunt here with us now?'

'Gwendal—'

'No. You do not,' he went on, overriding her. 'My aunt is not part of this marriage, Anissina. I am. And when I say that I do not want you to become something you are not—not if you don't want to—I want you to believe me.'

She looked up at him for a long moment before finally giving him a tentative smile, the fear disppearing and her eyes clearing. 'I'm sorry,' she said softly, snuggling as close to him as she could. 'I don't know why I was even worried.'

'Good. Don't forget it.'

--

Two years later, when Gwendal received a note from Anissina, Gunter didn't understand why he smiled, before dropping everything to rush down to the lab that he normally avoided.

He picked up the piece of paper, but the words still made no sense to him, and he shrugged as he dropped it on the desk.

_'I want my pillow to be blue, this time.'_

* * *

A/N: Yes. Sappy. Still, thanks for reading! All comment and concrit is welcome! :)

Only one chapter to go before I wrap up this story!


	25. Small Sacrifices

**Title:** Small Sacrifices  
**Word Count:** 800  
**Rating:** G  
**Any Warnings:** Fluff ahoy!  
**Prompt being used:** Word prompt: small sacrifices  
**Timeline:** Very post Season 3

Disclaimer: I own none of these very entertaining characters, please don't sue me. Thank you.

* * *

Neither of them wanted to give up their rooms in the castle, each of them insisting that the other stop being so stubborn and just _move in_, and it was only when even the usually even tempered Maou got fed up of all the fighting that they realised they were being silly and compromised—he would give up his quarters and move into a bigger suite of rooms for their combined use—and she would keep her laboratory.

* * *

While it was nice that they were married now, sometimes she missed the secrecy of the early days—especially since the maids now took to giggling and whispering behind their hands whenever they saw her together with Gwendal—but then when she snuggles into his side after a long hard day and he kisses her hair, she thinks she doesn't mind a little embarrassment.

* * *

Normally, he'd spend at least three hours every day after dinner finishing off his paperwork, but of course, _now_ he had more pleasurable distractions to contend with—and if he had to wake up an hour or two earlier every day just to catch up, well then, it was worth it.

* * *

Of late, she has developed a hate of balls and formal parties; now that she was 'Lady von Voltaire', she couldn't turn up in her work clothes any more, not without showing Gwendal in a bad light—and so she had to suffer through endless hours of preparation—but then, the stunned look in his eyes every time he saw her in her formal gowns never ceased to grow old.

* * *

Being the test subject for the odd experiment or two every month was one thing, but the bills Anissina began presenting him with now were beginning to worry him—he recalled her brother's drunken warnings at the wedding—but it was better than the alternative, which was telling her that her research wasn't an 'essential expense'.

* * *

When Lady Celi first started dropping hints that she would like to see her grandchildren _sooner_ rather than later, Gwendal snapped at his mother to stop bothering her, and she was grateful—but the wistful look in his eyes whenever the topic was brought up made her rethink her blind fears of having to abandon the Women's Movement uncompleted just because she had a _baby_—and when she thought about it honestly, the thought of a little boy with Gwendal's hair and her eyes, learning science from her...well, the Movement could stand to slow down for a few years, after all.

* * *

Anissina was going to bring his child and heir into the world, and in the moment of rash happiness when he had first heard the news, he had promised her _she_ could name the child—which he came to regret the day he heard her talking to her softly growing bump, calling it 'Virgil'—but the smile on her face was so peaceful, he learned to swallow his horror, and by the time his son was ready to be born, he could say the name with only the smallest of shudders.

* * *

She _missed_ trousers, and boots, and all those tightfitting outfits of her own design she'd once worn, especially now that she felt too _large_ to be attractive—and it didn't help that the only clothes she was capable of wearing now were all three sizes too big for her—but Gwendal assured her she looked more beautiful than ever, and though she didn't believe him, the little white lie _did_ make her feel better.

* * *

He had learned that, unlike him, his son was both an insomniac _and_ an early riser—which had led to quite a few early morning fights with a snappy and sleep deprived Anissina—until he had realised that sacrificing an hour of sleep every morning was small price to pay for having her happy and halfway _civil_ each morning.

* * *

Gwendal had often complained of her single minded focus on any task she set her mind to accomplishing—to the detriment of things like real life—and though she shook her head at his grumbling, she indeed found herself incapable of tearing herself away from an experiment once she had started—but a small hand tugging on her skirt and a cry of 'Mama, come play with me!' and she found that actually, it was quite easy to set work aside for a little while.

* * *

A/N: Ah, what a sap fest. I hope you brought your diabetic pills along with you. :P

And this is the very last chapter in this series. Sad to see it end, but then...all good things, and all that. Many, many thanks to all who've taken this journey 'From Friends to Lovers' with me - you guys made my day with every review and story alert! :)


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